


Stubborn Hope

by VioletAnarkist



Category: Jreg, The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:53:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24080062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletAnarkist/pseuds/VioletAnarkist
Summary: A flower shop au cuz I wanted onebut I've never really read a real one so its a shot in the dark.
Relationships: Authleft/Ancom, Minarchist/Hoppean, Transhumanist/Anarcho-Primitivist
Comments: 25
Kudos: 53





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> OooOOOoo  
> look at me making another commitment I can never keep up with.  
> I hope shit'll work out. and if not ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Ancom used qi/qim and i have no clue how that applies
> 
> basically don't expect much I have no idea what I'm doing.
> 
> Also like tagging this I realised like we have so many names for the characters there is no singular tag we can have them under...

The day had started off normal enough, Ancom dragged qimself out from qi’s back alley sleeping spot. The air had been bitter cold, but at least there was no blood to be seen on the pavement, as the morning sun sent a pale shaft of light along the deserted street. 

This was Ancoms favourite time of day, silent and still, no human was there to disturb qim as qi went about the morning routine. Pull up the ancient ripped white tent so it would flap in the soft winds making the person it was supposed to protect, colder (but Ancom didn’t really mind), get the shitty oven started in the small kitchen that had been begrudgingly loaned to them under the promise that no homeless would be coming near the owner’s property and put out the plastic table with the scratched white top, out beneath the tent on the uneven ground. 

Egoism was meant to be coming later today, but Ancom was pretty sure he wasn’t gonna show, he had been off-grid for a few days which basically meant he was ever in prison was drugged out somewhere or dead. How old was he? Ancom began preparing the soup as the sun filtered through the rode a little more beginning to greet the slowly waking world with its watery rays. 

Early morning shoppers and store owners were beginning to filter into the street, no one here was rich, everyone was on the edge of going out of business, the weekly riots were not helping. it was strange, Ancom should be in a school, shouldn’t be so familiar with death. Qi sighed as qi cut the carrots into the large iron pot, it was easy methodical as qi periodically checked the window checking the streets. 

He said he was 18, they all said they were 18…  
Qi always said qi was 18, really a lanky 15(&¾)-year-old, that looked 18 (or no one cared enough to check qis real age). Although qi thought qimself rather adult for qis age. But Anarcho-syndicalism had to only really be around 16 at best most probably around Ancom, maybe younger. 

The soup was almost ready to be shoved in the oven, qi was supposed to put the soup in at night and let it slow cook, but qi didn’t trust the ancient cooker, thinking it would kill anyone near the building in a heartbeat with noxious gases, or fire. Really it was just qis paranoia talking but qi preferred to let shit like that never go to chance, never letting qimself be a liability.

The oven was beginning to rattle loudly, making the small kitchen space shake violently the huge iron doors shaking as the heart given off became stifling, from across the room qi could see the bubbling of the soup inside before Ancom could begin to think of what the hell was going on, the oven made a deafening bang. Shaking the room as the black smoke began coiling out chocking as it clouded the room, blinding and itchy. Ancom had no clue what qi was meant to do, the smell was disgusting, and all qi could do was back away, staring at the oven in shock.

Get help. Get help.

The only way to get this cleared up was to get help, Anarcho-syndicalism was supposed to have a phone, he was supposed to be here for the emergencies. Qi had no idea what qi was supposed to do, so qi did what any ordinary person is qis situation would. Qi ran to get help.

Nextdoor, and the next door and the next door. Closed, turned away, sneered at, “we won’t fall for your tricks,” “we’re smarter than that, tramp!” over and over qi was turned away, no one would help qim. Qi supposed it was because qi looked scruffy and homeless, qi was scruffy and homeless, but no one would even listen to what qi was trying to say.

Gazing over qi’s shoulder, qi saw the small kitchen, brimming with thick dark smoke. Why was there no fire alarm? The doors were open, letting the smoke into the peaceful street but no one had noticed, yet. Fear was thrumming through qi’s veins as qi scurried forward, to the next shop, to the next shutdown, the next disappointment, the next wave of dread. 

It had almost been nine minutes of wandering in and out of shops up and down the quiet road already about eleven shops had turned qim down flat and another five had been closed, all turning qim down. All qi could do was wallow in dismay. The shops around refused to help or were closed this early in the morning. The small kitchen was smoking and Ancom could see no way out.

Qi was about to despair and maybe just go get a couple of qis buddies and try to figure this shit out, but getting them involved could get qim in a load of trouble with the big boss, she was an absolute bitch and hated qis whole existence, she ran a soup kitchen but would only hire a homeless person after they were last resort and then some.

Qi wasn’t sure a little fire was worth losing qis job and or life over maybe if qi tried to fix it alone and got hurt in the process, if qi didn’t sie, qi would get support...

Who was qi kidding? Qi would lose qis job, lose the small sleeping area that had been begrudgingly allowed and would louse the only chance qi had at getting better. It was frustrating as all hell, qi needed this job, this stability, qi hadn’t been hurt since qi got to sack up in the alley ‘round back, it was a good deal, but if this hell situation got worse… 

Dragging qis feet, as qi trailed back up the road, wondering what qi was supposed to do.

A bright pattern appeared below qis feet, qi frowned and looked up, a small inbuilt shop, barely visible but the pathname out front was so detailed and colourful, powdery chalk meticulously blended to create gradients of rosy red and pale pink. Green rooting out like leaves of a rose. All Ancom could do was stare for a few moments, how had qi never noticed the shop before? 

No time to wonder, the door had an open-sign with the same swirling multicoloured pattern painted on. The gentle tinkle of a bell as Ancom came stumbling through the door in all qis scruffy glory, it wasn’t really helping qis case but the anxiety was making qim more jittery and clumsy and all around weirder (if that was possible). Taking a deep breath qi prepared for yet another shutdown, as qi began the same shpiel used at every shop so far,

“Yea, hi. I’m- I’m Ancom, from the soup stand-kitchen and like like… the oven I I th-think is on fire... and like I don’t know what to do please please help…”

Qi knew the smile looked forced, it was, it felt really uncomfortable and untrue. Slanting on qis face as qis eyes told a story of pure panic. It was only after the stumbled explanation of qis sudden intrusion that qi noticed what the shop was, plants were everywhere, hanging from the ceiling brimming out from the edges of the space, soil spilt out from one corner and pots were scattered everywhere, a small counter across the cramped green space occupied the what qi supposes is the owner. 

Curly long dark hair spilling onto her shoulders, she stood behind the counter with a surprised expression. Her eyes were deep hazel and her clothes spattered lightly with dirt. She smiled at qim and the crushing feeling resurfaced, she was going to say qi should go, that she knew the trams around her and she can tell a trick any day. Qi wanted to run away, but qi stood qi’s ground looking at her waiting for her response with a strange feeling of defiance and pride in taking it head-on. Qi would have to fix this qimself, that was fine.

“Let me just grab my phone, I’ll come over and check with you, we can get this cleared up, don’t worry sweetie.”

Her voice was gentle and soothing, completely removing the floor from qis feet, making it difficult to understand what had just happened as qi stare dumbfounded for a moment, she dissipated behind the curtains and a few moments later resurfaced with her phone at hand.

Her name is Ms Lori (Ancom knew her name was just Lori but it was funny to call her Ms Lori), she’s the nicest person ever. From that day on she was put on the Anarchists protection list, her shop became one of their main safe areas no vandalism or damage was dealt to her business establishment, for fear of repercussions, and her name became one of the well-known individuals to the homeless youth population synonymous with her safety and general approachability. 

She was never able to really give out money, being barely stable as a business, but she was always willing to lend her backroom for a night when it got too cold to sleep outside, and she would always sit and have a good chat when business was slow. She was the mom to the community of lost kids, she knew almost all of them by name, she had even hired a few of them, along with her regular employees.

Ms Lori was the fucking best, and the kids would do anything to keep her and her business afloat and safe. They would risk their lives to do so.


	2. Fuck Rioters, or should I say Nazis?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> violence? I guess that's a warning? lil bit of blood. I'm really bad at writing real emotion.   
> Bit of a robot or whatever but yeah. if you're secretive to that type of shit.   
> and Nazis but like not our Nazi, just Nazis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea, so like both are posted at the same time cuz kill me...

The city had been in an uproar for weeks, new policies setting people on edge as workers rights were slowly approached to be attacked; or whatever they were yelling about the next week. The immigration policies were being mulled over and it seemed as though human lives were being used as commodities when talking about new frontiers for the business opportunities of tomorrow, benefiting of the suffering of today; or whatever they were yelling about the next week. 

It was all so confusing, the yelling, the polarizing opinions, all Ancom wanted was not to be attacked while qi world. But the people were becoming bolder and bolder in their “protests”, and all their “celebrations” from the way they acted it was all going to only get worse. They knew the police would do shit-all to stop them. The pigs. So they were unafraid, but Ancom was afraid.

The signs of gathering crowed had become a normal occurrence and Ancom learned to pack up the second danger could be detected, often just minutes before a party erupted or something worse went down.

But it had never looked this bad. This big a gathering. Usually, the shopowners outnumbered them, but now…

The people along the streets looked insane, this hungry predatory expression etched onto their scowling faces, as they prowled around. Hulking beasts. The shop hadn’t opened that day, and Ancom could tell something bad was going to go down, just not sure who for. Fight or flight was the only course of action, qi would get hurt if qi just hid in the ally like a coward. Qi would get hurt no matter what, it was inevitable and all that shit. 

But the desperate nagging of a memory a reminder, something qi was forgetting was flitting around qis mind maddening qim. But nothing was coming to as qi stood, staring at the slowly expanding crowed. Qi knew if qi stood there too much longer qi would be stuck, in the dark secluded ally, easy pickings.

So, shoving the nagging memory and qi’s own belongings aside, hidden away behind a load of iron fencing, too heavy to move or really use, Ancom began to try slipping away unnoticed. Silently shifting out of the cover of the grungy ally into the filled streets. 

Qi got five steps. 

They were Nazis. The protest. The demonstrators. Whatever they called themselves. They liked to call themselves White nationalists, bosting about their purity and how they would get the filth off their streets. They readily attacked anything that dared to exist near enough them to be seen. Ancom had no choice, and Ancom knew qi was fucked the moment the crowd was around qim…

Qi was not greeted kindly. Sneering expressions and bared teeth, qi was used to the hateful glares, expected them at this point, although they still burned on the back of qis neck. But the sudden impact of something solid was unexpected. The flying fist to the ribs was delt by this short springy guy, a wild energetic glitter in his eyes, as he lept at qim yelling arms waving maddeningly,

“The fuck you lookin’ at?”

His voice was gratingly shrill and pissed, throwing another sloppily dealt fist, after the words tumbled out of his repulsive smelling mouth, spit projecting out, as though he was drunk. Ancom noted he was missing one of his front teeth, the other dyed the colure of charcoal, and then Ancom was shot with this immense sense of searing pain, blood beginning to drip from qis nose. 

“Yea queer! You fags are headed straight to the camps, just like we voted for!”

Another fist another shot of pain, this one to the stomach as Ancom keeled over defensively, qi knew qi should shut it out, stop feeling stop being, they get bord if theirs no reaction, or they think you’re dead. Ancom shouldn’t react to any of their abuse, no matter if qi wanted to scream out due to the pain.

“Animal!”

Another punch, this one to qis ribs. Blood was still dripping from qis nose as qi struggled not to shout out in pain, the sound muffled by tightly sealed lips. As qi looked up through teary eyes,

“Freak!”

A crack of fists, smacking down on qis back as qi struggled to not keel over, they could kick qim if qi keeled over, qi knew that much qi hated being kicked, qi didn’t want to be kicked. But the pain was becoming agonisingly persistent, and the blood kept flowing down qis face, dripping from qis nose with ease.

“Degenorate pice of shit!”

Shoved to the side, Ancom stumbled, teetering on the edge of staying upright and then keeling over, like a ragdoll, slamming qis head on the ground as qi continues to bleed from the nose. The people attacking qim immediate ascended on the defenceless kid, kicking and punching with reckless abandon. Qi knows to go limp, remembers to play dead, to look unentertaining to people like this. Not worth their time. Not fun to abuse.

That was the one ‘useful’ trick qis dad had taught qim before qi left home for forever. As qi felt the fain it was an almost out of body experience, staring at the ground with teary eyes, qi felt the blows but the pain seemed far off somehow. 

After what felt like a millennium of excruciating agony and floaty detachment, the vultures pulled away, one by one. Till qi was left on the street for a few moments all qi could think was what was yet to come. It wouldn’t be pretty, and no matter the outcome, monsters like that were going to destroy everything they could. Qi wanted to cry, wanted to drown, wanted to stop. But the whisper in the back of qis mind pressed down for so long now chose to remind qim.

Looking up qi saw the mesmerising pattern chalked onto the ground, only meters away from where qi had fallen, the entrance to the small flower shop. Qi had to warn her, had to keep her ok, had to protect the one person who made qis life worth living. Lifting qimself up on qis elbows qi began to struggle over to Ms Lori’s shop, the soft burning of determination within qis heart, bursting alight once more.


	3. Ok, what the fuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so like, the way I'm writing this is me trying to adapt speech writing into this area, its a bit janky and I know some parts are gonna drag but I feel this may work better in the long run... idk yet.
> 
> all testing and whatnot, also I have no clue how to write a flowershop au and that's gonna show later on, yall been warned.

Stumbling through the old wooden door, with its soft white stained-windows and it’s familiar sweetly tinkering bell; was strange. Juxtaposed with the vile beating qi had just injured, but it also reminded qim how much qi loved this lady, to the point qi would stand outside her business and fight anyone who dared come close with nothing but qis fists, if it would protect her. 

Qi wanted to return the favour she had dealt, the first day with the fire, and then every time she sat and talked with one of the street kids, every time she had lent out her backroom or gave out medical supplies, the times she would sit after her businesses closing to keep a panicked person company, waiting with so many for THE call, the hundreds of times she had lent her cellphone and every time she had talked the quiet back street kids out of ending it all. 

Qi knew she still had the burn scars on her hand, but never seemed upset, it was a deeply held belief by most of the street kids that she would give any of them the world if she could, she would be the only positive authority figure, for most of them, in what seemed like years. She was a reason to keep living. 

Ancom knew qi had to protect her at all costs, of life and limb. So when qi stumbled through the door expecting to see the kind face of Ms Lori, and instead being greeted by a hulking wall of muscle and red. Blood red, like qis dripping nose, like the bloodshot eyes of a dying man. 

The rally behind qim was getting louder, louder than qi remembered it ever being in the sleepy back city street. As qi stared up at the impossibly tall figure, dazed confusion. 

He wore a fluffy brown ushanka, that was really too warm for the current climate, his dark red trench coat swirled around him like a cape and the look he was shooting down at qim was borderline murderous. A dagger field of contempt as he looked at qim.

Qi was scruffy, ripped clothes hanging off qis small and skinny frame, bloodstains marking most of the exposed skin. Qi looked filthy and insane, the reflection glittering in qis eyes like a mad-man, like the shine of one who had just got out of jail and was ready to face the world once more. The contemptuous glare could almost make sense.

But qi needed to talk to Ms Lori, qi needed to warn her about the oncoming crowd of insane Nazis the violence just outside her door. Qi felt sick, felt dizzy and burned with the pain from the beating. Qi didn’t register the man qi had just stumbled into, or the way he stared at qim like qi had just murdered a crowd of people and then proceeded to beg for forgiveness. A murderer without remorse.

Rolling off the impact qi immediately trying to just slip past him an extremely scruffy worm. The man in red didn’t take nicely to being pushed past and looked down at qim with an even more contemptuous gaze. 

“The Блядь are you doing?”

His voice was heavily accented, deep and angry, like a dim fire, roaring in the soft summer night air under the local bypass, as cars flew overhead in a never-ending stream. His face was cold, slightly wrinkled nose as he watched the kid sway unsteadily, why the fuck was this happening?

Ancom wasn’t doing much for qimself as qi looked up at him with a slightly slacked jaw, a dumbfounded expression at not being let through. Bloody beaten face, disheveled clothes. Green eyes sparkling with that insane glimmer. 

“I need to-”

Ancom stopped for a moment, tripping on the words as they formed on qis tongue. Biting on the fumbled syllables, qi tried again, the world's beginning to form, ready to be spewed in a tangled mess but blood began dripping into qis mouth, making qim shut up once more.

By this time the hulking man looked rather done with this scruffy tramp, he began to push the kid out the door once more, the disapproving gaze and rather angry demeanour only exasperated by the refusal to immediately leave. the resistance to his strong hand as qi subconsciously fought, while still gathering qimself together.

“You need to get help,”

His voice was still heavy, but instead of being angry, it was more exasperated as he stared down at Ancom with slight pity. 

That made Ancom angry, the pit in qis stomach bubbling with the brews of rage, qi would be called hideous unrepeatable names, beaten beyond human recognition and learned to talk qis way out of any tough patches with the familiarity of a professional because qi was really. But pity was a demon that prowled through the night, although your eyes may shine and they think oh such a sickly, poor innocent child. The truth is cruel, those seen as weak are picked off first, Ancom was not to be pitied, qi could be feared, hated, face any amount of mistreatment and scorn but qi wouldent be pitied.

“I need to talk to Ms Lori. Now. Before I decide to perform a little demonstration on your throat.” 

The words were spoken on impulse, eyes narrowing and voice lousing the floating unstable edge. Becoming colder than ice. But Ancom felt qi could stand by the sentiment. Qi wasn’t going to take this individual’s pitying gaze, refusing to be written off as another drug-addled idiot lying down.

“Lori is good woman, but you shouldn’t be seeking help from an individual, get state to stop homeless issues and you won’t have to ask small business for help.”

His voice was cold, calculated. Qi knew about getting the state handouts, qi basically ran a state hand out business, although qi didn’t believe the state could stop this shit happening that, in fact, the state let it happen. Qi was left alone to fend for qimself, just like every other homeless youth.

If qi had to leave qi supposed qi would just have to defend from the outside, and hope qi can pick up a weapon quickly. The thought sat in qi’s stomach like a dead animal, limp and cold, but the other option, the coward’s option, seemed so much worse. Qi knew it had been qis first choice earlier, but now qi felt as though nothing was more important than this shop. And with that thought, Ancom sighed. Qi would go out as a warrior if qi failed.

The red guy’s hulking frame took up most of qis field of vision, qi couldn’t see what was going on behind this strange new individual but the sudden sound of Ms Lori’s voice was a blessing to the fearful mind.

“Why are you blocking the entrance?”

Her voice was the soft tone it always was, curious, not accusatory.

“Kid, trying shove past me, so I’m trying to get him to leave, but when I try to get leave he threatened me.”

He was calm, blank expression as he turned enough for her to be able to see Ancom, Ms Lori frowned for a moment of recognition but not being able to place who they were beyond the blood soaked visage. 

A few seconds passed before she finally registered who she saw, with ripped clothes and a bloody nose, red-rimmed eyes and bruises visible past almost every piece of exposed skin.

“Ok first, hi Ms Lori. Second, there are Nazis outside! That’s why my face looks like this. Ow, and I think I’m gonna pass out.”

Ancom stared at the stunned expression on Ms Lori’s face. Qi swayed on the spot, the world begging to tilt dangerously, as qi felt the burn of the blows coming back in an agonising presence. She shook her shock off somewhat, a steely expression crossed her usually soft face, masking the momentary lapse of confidence, as she nodded somberly to the swaying kid. Pent on keeping her and her business safe. 

“Commie, bring Ancom through to the backroom, tell Minnie to keep qim safe, then come out and help me lock up properly, bring the iron key, it’s in the box I showed you.”

Her voice was so calm, authoritative, it even made the swaying Ancom stand straighter for a few moments, before falling back to curling in on qimself so as not to topple over. The hulking man blinked once at her before nodding and taking Ancom by the shoulder. leading qim through the shop with no questions asked, no reason required, just a following of orders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea, this was a drag, I know I'm not good at writing introductions, or characterisation really. but it needed to be done. so like yeah...


	4. Minarchist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's slow, I'm slow we're all forced to watch the drag. 
> 
> But like... MINARCHIST IS CUTE GOD DAMB IT. A baby, sweet innocent child, super awkward but trying his best.

The break room was a familiar space, barely larger than an average greenhouse, the back (through the half doorway, that looked more like a hobbit hole, rather than anything reasonable sized) was dedicated to a line of home-grown plants, although she got a lot of plants shipped in Ms Lori was actually rather big on growing her own food and other easily looked after flowers. 

The break room was familiar as it was the space that qi had had to sleep in on those occasions the temperature became frigid to the point it could be dangerous so qi would sleep with a couple of other kids, packed in like sardines hidden away till morning, it was honestly one of the last times qi had slept under a roof. Qi was settled on a sofa chair thing, it was old and covered with a handmade cover. Before the guy, looked at qim with slight curiosity. 

“I’ll go grab Minarchist… Don’t. Die.”

He was stiff and short when speaking, the slight rage still bubbling in Ancoms gut reminded qim of how idiotic this moron had been.

“Not trying to.”

Qi responded, taking a moment as qi struggled with the concept of coherency, although the pause the answer was rather sharp and angry as qi looked at the trenchcoat-wearing man with a bitter all be it unfocused expression. 

Wrinkling qis bloodied nose in an attempt of a sneer, qi wasn’t very good at it, but the expression seemed to get some form of the point across as the man turned on his heel, marching to the potting room back stiff and fists slightly clenched. Moments later returning with a rather confused Minarchist.

“Ancom? why‘s your nose bleeding? Actually, give me a sec, thanks Commo.”

He bonded back to the room and returned with a damp rag, it was a pale grey shade with a small tear on the corner, Ancom had used it to wipe down surfaces when qis shop had nothing sanitary and qi had to ask Ms Lori for assistance. 

Once Minarchist returned he flashed his dazzling grin seemingly trying to defuse the tension in the room, yellow and blue eyes sparkling with the witty and sweet spirit alight behind them, dancing softly in the dim light. Minarchist plopped down next to Ancom, settling into the squishy chair with the ease and poise mastered through practice, judged by those of high-society, he had a talent for that type of grace.

The guy, Minarchist, had called “Commo” nodded once before leaving the room, still with his head held high, eyes fixed ahead a neutral expression firmly attached to his face.

“Who the fuck is he?”

The second he was out of earshot, or maybe a little sooner (qi didn’t really cair) the question was blurted into the room as qis eyes fixed where the man had stood before he had left.

“Oh, you know... he’s- Umm he’s Lori’s…. Kid?”

Ancom whipped qis neck round so fast it was a surprise qi didn’t have whiplash, or maybe qi had already got some from then beating earlier, ever way qis neck ached. Qi was facing Minarchist with this shocked expression.

“Kid? I thought she didn’t have kids?”

The anxious edge hanging onto qis voice dragged qim down like a weight. Ms Lori didn’t have any family, it was common knowledge, she was asexual and her family had disowned her years ago. How could she have a kid?

“That beast? Is her kid!?”

Minarchist had to suppress a snort as he sat and watched Ancom get progressively more confused over a matter of a few moments

“No, no-no-no. He’s like her cousin, nephew? I’m not sure, but she took him in for reasons not disclosed to me, and he’s harmless, reserved, but harmless. Now if you’d just let me.”

The soft smile on his lips was soothing after the outside hostility qi had faced. As he lent in with the wet rag so as to dabbed at the dried blood on qis face delicately. The town was rather cold, and when it first touched qim qi flinched, Minarchist winced slightly and apologised softly under his breath. Sighing as he got the blood off qis lips

“How did you get this way though? Like, this is a serious beating, I wouldn’t be surprised if your nose is broken.”

Ancom frowned before remembering he had been in the back room, it was almost silent in the space they were sat in. As the break-room was crushed by fussy businesses on ever side, concrete walls, so as not to transport sound. It was quiet-peaceful qi wanted to be here forever in a way, safe. 

Sadly, qi knew it would never last, the never-ending hellscape qi called qis life flat out wouldn’t allow it. Slowly qi drew in a deep breath, before giving the quick overview of what had happened. 

“So there some are neo-nazis outside… and when I say some I mean enough to create a crowd that is literally defining to walk near. And like I sorta got caught in like the middle of the crowd, and I’m not exactly subtle… it was like I had to play dead to get them off me bad. They were rather, ruthless. Aren’t, they meant to be protesting something?” 

Ancom frowned at the expression that crossed the others face for a few moments, eyes filled with deep thought, as he sat as still as a statue, doomed to be frozen in place for thousands of years. Leaning back slightly he closed his eyes for a few prolonged moments before returning to dabbing Ancoms face with the cold wet rag.

“So you came to the shop? Wouldn’t it have been easier to get an ambulance, or maybe the police, I get you don’t like them, but I feel it would have been easier…”

Ancom stared at him a single raised eyebrow, Minarchist winced and recoiled, an apologetic expression on his face

“Yeah… yeah. I get it. You don’t trust them. I know.”

He smiled awkwardly as he went back to wiping the bloodstain off, gently sweeping qis face with the slowly staining grey rag, the crimson from the blood a stark contrast. They sat in silence, the room a comfortable temperature, and it was safe, which to Ancom was a rarity. 

“Ya know, the red guy, you called like tommie? I don’t know, but like he’s a dick. Like his vibes are rotten as all fuck...”

Ancom’s voice was slurred and softer than the usual shriek, as qi struggled to remain awake. How long was it since qi had last slept in the warm? It was Minarchist’s turn to raise an eyebrow, as he wiped the last few swipes of blood from qis face.

“I don’t know… he’s a bit…”

Minarchist drew in a long breath, the fluffy brown fringe bouncing back slightly as he carefully considered his next words 

“He’s probably better than you think, we should always give second chances and he may show a nice side. For me, he has been civil and although he hasn’t, really, talked I would say he has been helpful, and generally very chill. He’s just reserved? shy?”

He spoke softly, rambling like the soft humming of a century-old light fixture, soothing like rain on the roof of Ancom’s old squat. he might have carried on, but Ancom stopped really listening, letting the aching wash over qim a wave of suppressed pain. Qi was safe. Qi was safe.

Darkness consumed qim, absorbing qim into the bliss expanse of nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok sorry, idk what I'm doing, this chapter also feels like a drag, honestly, I think I should've shoved this one and the last one as one, but I couldn't be bothered to re-order my backlog.
> 
> I haven't really explained, basically, this whole book is a bit of an adventure when written, cuz I'm doing it like one of my speeches its already sorta halfway done, but I need to go through and fix the bits I've done, so I've got up to about chapter 7 but its all disjointed, I'm really uncertain about this whole endeavour but I needed something more to worry about... heh.
> 
> i stared at this chapter for about 40 minutes before summoning the will to even re-read it. love Minarchist but it feels weird.
> 
> also yeah, their ages are super young, images them older but younger? idk but like age in extremists world or whatever is fucked or that's the excuse I'll-use (look at me making up excuses cuz this book isn't well planned) f sorry...
> 
> but yeah, take it as you will. this is not a cry out for help,
> 
> also, I need people to listen to this podcast like I know this is out of nowhere but I haven't been able to stop it's pretty long but it's about the possibility of a second American civil war and how much more likely than we think it is to happen. It's bloody amazing and I have been really scared for the longest time, I'm on like 6 episodes in and I am fucking loving it. its called "It Could Happen Here" and is on google podcasts. please (especially Americans) check it out <3
> 
> ok sorry again, hope some confused is clear up, or am I making more confusion? AAAAAA


	5. Harbouring a secret vendetta against ordinary conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "harbouring their own secret vendetta against ordinary conversation"  
> pretty apt for this chapter  
> and I'm sorry I didn't get this out yesterday

It was a short period later that qi was awoken, head now slumped on the back of the chair, Minarchist was lent forward head bowed over his phone as he softly mumble a tunless song to himself. But he wasn’t the only other person in the room anymore.

Ms Lori sat sipping from a small teacup, decorated with a tiny robin picture, perched on the only other chair in the room. The red trenchcoat guy sat on the floor, nose buried in a book and his lip-split, scarlet slowly oozing out as his eyes flashed back and forth.

Slowly Ancom blinked at the room glancing around. Nothing was out of place, but qi could sense something was off, the tension in the room, unsettling. Something was wrong and qi couldn’t tell what, and qi didn’ know if qi wanted to, 

“Are the Nazis gone?”

Qis voice was croaky, slightly jittery, the way someone who just woke up from a fitful slumber would struggle to resurface in the normal world. Ms Lori glanced up from her cup to smile softly at the dazed expression, before taking a short sip, 

“You’re awake!”

Her happy tone and warm smile didn’t reach her eyes, which remained lost and concerned, swirling like the foggy fields of a cold winter morning,

“That’s good to know, how are you feeling?”

Ancom blinked at her, she had glided over qis question so easily, something was wrong. Qi sat up straighter at this revelation but almost immediately regretted it as qis head jarring intensely, reminding qim of the burning ache over qis battered body.

“I don’t know, how did Red-Coat get the split lip?”

The man looked up with a slightly sceptical glitter in his eye, lowering his book enough to reveal further. A ripped black T-shirt and bloodstained knuckles, suppose he could put up a fight, he did have the build.

“Deary”

Ms Lori began looking sceptical as she peered over her teacup, big brown eyes eliminated in the dim light of the back room, ghostly, ethereal.

“There are Nazis outside, remember?” leaning in she inspected qim with a concerned expression, “You warned us about them, they attacked the shop only a couple of seconds after, Commie had to take a few ideots on,” her face dropped slightly, watching as Ancom struggled to keep up, still dragging qimself out from the sleepy haze of what qi assumed was the doing of a head injury “he knocked a man out cold… that’s why we’re in here. They’re still outside, but we put down the iron cover.”

Slowly realization bloomed on qim, red guy had faced the same crowed qi had, knocked one of them out. That was nice. Qi was stuck waiting for the riot to be over, that may take hours. As qi dreaded the wait Ms Lori smiled kindly at qim.

“I know you may be concerned about your friends, I’m worried about them too. But we have to stay still, we have to stay safe, so when the smoke clears we can go out and help.”

Qi hadn’t even considered that, hadn’t even wondered how they were. All of the street rats or the lost souls the kids without homes, wondering in that crowed most couldn’t take the beating Ancom had dealt with. How many Nazis were there? Could they get out? Who was going to get passed? Who wouldn’t? Were the Nazis openly attacking? Was there anything stopping them?

A whole new world of possibility, each outcome seeming darker and more terrifying, played out at Ancoms feet, like the decaying rat corpses dragged out the sewer by one of the hundreds of alley-cats, begging for praise and attention. 

What would happen to all of their family, their real family, would they be allowed to stay on the streets or would the government blame it on the easy targets like they had hundreds of times before? What if someone was really badly hurt? Fear shooting in qis veins, like any other chemical, but this one wasn’t willingly administered, this one was like thick mud and boiling water. Qi knew there was no other way forward but qi still wanted another option.

Ms Lori saw the anxiety, she had a sixth sense for that type of thing, she took another sip of her tea before putting it down on the floor and standing up. She was average height, taller than qim certainly (although that wasn’t hard) and walked over to qim, leaning down so she was crouched down in front of qim.

“I know you’re scared, I am too. But we have to wait this out. We have to stay strong.”

She leant in and hugged qim, really held qim in her arms, curling qim to her chest as she repeated herself. It had been too long since anyone had held qim like this, qi was only 15(&¾), qi was a child for fuck’s sake and this was the first time for the longest time anyone had held qim like a child. It felt too safe, too trusting, too much like a lie.

Tears pricked at the corners of qis eyes as qi felt the warmth radiating from her. It was almost uncomfortable in a foreign-familiar way. Qi wanted to get away and push closer. Escape the fake sense of safety and also live in that happy little lie. Luckily qi didn’t have to choose, because Minarchist spoke up for the first time, seemingly not having noticed the room or the tension heavy in the air.

“Ok, Hop’s not with this lot. But his friend…”

Minarchist frowned as he lent to text back. But the moment of stress was broken, the spell of the lie broken, the false scene of security was broken. No matter how kind she was Ms Lori just couldn’t fix qis problems. She drew back with a light smile on her lips, apologetic but comforting, as she went back to her seat and the robin teacup.

“Hop your new boy?”

The kind inquisitive smile, filling the silence with pleasant conversation, soft words and simple curiosity were her best traits. She could always lower the tension, always make everyone in a room feel at ease.

Minarchist frowned as he continued to stare at his phone for a few more moments, before looking up anxious uncertainty in his kind eyes, bouncy warm brown curls slightly conceal his wrinkled brow. 

“Not sure where I am with him… honestly don’t know if he even likes boys but…”

Ancom chuckled at the hopeful tone he held. All the guy’s Minarchist had crushed on were, for lack of a better term, pretty trash. They all seemed alright, but they always were a fucked up lot. It was his sweet personality that drew them in, the way they promised so easily and seemed to love openly. Moth to a flame he was and flyes to honey them.

And just by the sounds of it, this guy he was messaging “Hop” was at least a Nazi sympathiser or something of that effect. But it was Minarchist’s life, qi could respect him and his autonomy. sometimes...

“Just live in hope he ain’t some frat brat with more bravado than brain.”

The awkward smile on Minarchist’s face was all the confirmation qi needed. Goddam this kid, he was such a fix-it type, taking on too much and getting his heartbroken. But it was up to him, it was his decision. Qi couldn’t tell him how to live his life.

“I suppose he’s better than the last guy?”

Minarchist nodded feverishly, eyes blown wide for a moment before brushing it off with a soft laugh. 

“Yea he’s better, he doesn’t want me dead at least…”

The room got awkward at that, Minarchist curling in on himself, fidgeting with his hands and avoiding eye contact. Ancom knew qi had touched a nerve and knew to lay off a bit, turning back to Ms Lori nervously, before seeing the slightly humoured but concerned expression, eyes flashing with an emotion similar to pity but more defensive, like a mother lioness defending her cubs from unknown threats. Once Ancom had caught her eye she shrugged, before taking a sip of tea. No help there well Ancom knew to change the topic if a bit awkwardly.

“Umm.. ya- ya know, I haven’t actually met, red-coat, apart from the entrance,”

Ms Lori frowned before turning to the guy on the floor expectantly, he was buried back in his book, but it was clear he wasn’t actually reading, as his eyes were fixed on one point. He remained silent till Ms Lori nudged him with her foot, trying to get him to look up. 

Slowly he raised his field of vision from his book, uncomfortable to be placed as the centre of attention in the room, he blinked once, eyes fixing somewhere off to the side of Ancoms head.

Suddenly he seemed to develop this strange defensive layer around himself, drawing this confident person out of nowhere. His shoulders went looser than before his frame filling out to be this hulking mass of muscle, his folded legs that had been tucked neatly to his chest lowering to open up his mass. Lowering the book he had so intently been scanning to looked up at qim, blinking once with this at ease yet vigilant gaze.

He nodded once, inclining his head slightly to Ancom before locking eyes with qim.

“My name is Commie.”

He maintained eye-contact, as though waiting for me to respond with something scathing. This easy confidence, defensive in a subtle yet clear way, his body language all but screamed, “don’t fuck with me, I’m willing to kill for less than a chuckle.”

“Hi, Commie… I’m Ancom.”

Qi sounded lame, the chilling silence hanging in the air like the countless frigid winter nights, permeated by the fake sense of holiday spirit manufactured lights glittering in the street just beyond the alleyway Ancom decided to sit in that evening, the only conversation worth having was with the darkness and the rats.

Ancom glanced at Ms Lori desperate for the tension to be broke, it was as though everyone in the room was harbouring their own secret vendetta against ordinary conversation. Ancom was sick of dealing with the awkward tension and honestly, qi was willing to talk about basically anything, just to get out of the circle of shutdowns and uncomfortable silences, not willing to let the silence hang, for fear of fear, qis friends were still outside, in that protest grounds, anything could happen.

Ms Lori was incredibly lovely, willing to help fill the void when she saw qim struggling. Leaning forward slightly to give Commie the side-eye, sceptical humour glittering in her warm eyes as the corners wrinkled, the lines so young cased from countless smiles creasing once more.

“Ya know, Commie isn’t a big scary monster he tried to play off as.”

Her smile was now almost malicious in the way a parent trying to embarrass a child would smile. As the stony expression on Commies faces faltered for a millisecond, before returning to a cold complexion. He curled back up and buried himself back in the book, or so he hoped to show. But his eyes were barely drifting, glazed as he drifted aimlessly across the wrinkled pages.

“He’s the biggest softie I’ve dealt with, sweetest honestly. Just gotta get him to get out of this mindset of scaring everyone around him. Don’t we?”

She lent down to place a hand on his ushanka, ruffling it back and forth slightly, it was almost comical, she was spindly in comparison like he could snap her with one hand but her smile was warm as she stared down at him.

“He’s only actually 16, so I’d reckon around your real age, but I wouldn’t know, cuz you won’t tell me.”

She looked up with narrowed eyes, staring at me with a comically scrutinising expression, exaggerating her hurt by puffing out her cheeks slightly and wrinkling her nose. Before dropping the whole act after a few moments, chuckling joyously to herself as Ancom watched on with a small goofy smile.

“I can’t tell you, cus I can’t risk losing my life, I’m ‘eighteen years old’ till I’m actually eighteen”

She shook her head as she looked at qim cocking her head curiously, eyes twinkling kindly once more, the familiar soft smile playing on her lips.

“One of these days… but yeah, my Commie is only 16 and a huge softie, couldn’t actually hurt anyone, the bloke he knocked out? He almost cr-”

Suddenly Commie stood up, cutting her short an uncomfortable expression creasing his brow, he stood for a few seconds, vaguely swaying as though he didn’t know where he was heading. 

“I am going to check the front.”

His voice was thickly accented, as he spoke in a stilted manner. Before he was marching off, not staying to listen to any form of protest. His book laying on the floor discarded but clearly placed so not to be stepped on, slotted beneath the cupboard slightly, tucked away. 

From what qi could see, the spine was pulling away from the rest of the pages, ‘Homage to Catalonia’ the book was a yellowing shade the stamped on pictures of a rose and a knife wrapped together both a shade of worn-out red, it was battered and well-loved scared by a life of being read. But it looked difficult to read. The ripped front cover reviled the first page and the words were so craped it almost made qim feel claustrophobic.

“He never gets his head out of those books… he really is such a positive thinker, believes that one day he can help change the world… I hope he does, I hope he can, I hope it’s not late...”

Ms Lori spoke almost to herself, murmuring to herself as she frowned at the book, her own private world qi felt qi was intruding on. By his departure qi supposed the conversation was over, you should never talk of someone behind their back. So averting qis gaze qi was fixed once more on Minarchist, he was staring down at his phone, a dejected expression glittering in his eyes. 

How long had they actually been in the room? Sitting out the Nazis, waiting for their little demonstration to end. Ancom wondered if the situation was going to get worse as more people were being called to action, qi didn’t really pay attention to the news, how could qi? Qi had no real access to the news. But from what qi had heard and seen, the city was going to piss-shit as people lost their jobs left and right and the government focused on pushing out the few able-bodied eligible workers because of outdated laws on immigrants.

Honestly, all qi hoped no one would get hurt, but in this type of situation, hope wasn’t the primary factor. The thoughts of injured friends left to get trodden on in the streets haunted Ancom as qi continued watching Minarchist slowly typing on his phone deleting then retyping and sending the message, immediately turning off his phone and pressing back into the seat, as though he had just done the most difficult task in the world.

Why were they all like this? They had been putting too much weight on small minuscule challenges of the world. But they ignore the bigger picture. 

Qi was guilty as any on them for ignoring or avoiding the real weight of what was going on. But it felt almost crushing. But this was Minarchist, the kid who seemed to own the world and nothing at all, the kind hard worker who always ended up falling for the wrong guy. The kid who came from an upper-class family, but made friends with anyone he met.

Maybe not focusing on the bigger picture was ok? Maybe they didn’t have to always work to change the world. Sometimes all you can do is try to help each other get through this hell-scape of an existence.

Ancom glanced at Ms Lori with a what qi hoped was a knowing smirk, the cheeky smile had returned to her lips, lousing the introspective gaze in her eyes. It was all qi needed to make up qis mind.

“Is he cute? Even a straight boy can be cute if ya know what I mean.”

Elbowing Minarchist in the ribs, qi drew him out from the closed-eyed vigil waiting for a response qi guessed, or contemplating something just sent. Qi actually had no idea what qi meant. But getting qis friend out of this weird slump was probably the best move. And filling the space with feelings of hope was better than continuing down the dark road of qis mind

He looked at qim with a sceptical eye,

“I don’t know… like he’s... he’s cute and when I get him out of his angry mode he’s really nice… but… I just don’t know…”

It was saddening seeing him so lost, the confidence and compassion trumped by the anxiety and that fucking awkward smile, that never really meets your eyes, the one you have to force when you can’t tell anyone in the room the truth. 

Leaning back qi adopted qis signature relaxed state, arms frown out laying across the backs of the chairs, in an exaggerated stretch slumping down and spreading qis legs. Ms Lori raised an eyebrow at this less than lady-like gesture but remained quiet as she continues to watch the scene unfold absently staring off, probably thinking about a new floral arrangement.

“If you score, I wanna meet him first,”

qi threw a cheeky grin over at him before adding,

“And I reckon Ms Lori would like the same.”

Qi smiled wickedly looking over at her with a kind glimmer in qis eyes, seeing the protective lioness return. Qi had clearly got the cogs turning for her and she nodded curtly after a few seconds of pained deliberation. 

“I would like that very much.”

Minarchist furrowed his brow as he looked back and forth between the pair. Apprehensive and uncomfortable, similar to Commie, he clearly didn’t like being the centre of attention. Slowly he swayed his head considering his words,

“I don’t really think you’d like hi-”

“I don’t care, I’m not letting some asshole push you around without being able to recognise and beat his ass!”

Ancom cut him off heatedly, bristling like a pissed cat. Relaxed body posture straightening head-turning to him as qi spat,

“Otherwise I’ll have to do to him what we did to the last asshole. You don’t want all of us on you again?”

Minarchist sighed and looked at qim with a small smile, eyes twinkling with this comforting kindness. 

“No. But I still feel I should have some autonomy, even if I have a crazy-x. Although I’ll introduce you both to him if it’s that big of a deal to you. -once I get him to agree to play nice-”

He mumbled the last thing as he checked his phone once more, frowning at the message and hurriedly sending off a response. It was a return to a form of normality, the city was changing, the world was changing, qis life was changing. Everything somehow becoming more hostile to everything Ancom cherished. But that didn’t matter.

“I believe police have control of... situation.”

Commie stood back in the doorway, his face a shade of white that told the room something grave had just happened 

“You should come. See... It.”

He looked directly at Ms Lori, eyes shining with concern, the cold demeanour dissipating for a few moments revealing a terrified underlayer twinkling with panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minarchist is cute  
> the book Commies reading is supposed to be good, I wanna read it but I'm sucky at reading books like that.
> 
> an like this chapter is a tad bit long... just a tad. 
> 
> idk I'm sorry this wasn't out yesterday but the thought of reading something I wrote kinda filled me with dread, so that's something.
> 
> and I finished the podcast I recommended, I'm fucking terrified, and I love it.  
> any political podcasts, y'all know that are on Google podcasts are like please send <3


	6. Move forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's not very natural, but it's needed, I really need work on my emotions and interactions. but it's here.
> 
> I guess warning for like injuries, I'm not sure if that's really needed, oh and a dead guy.

The road looked ripped, the pavement covered in paint and any form of powder, all marked with the daunting stain of blood. The sight was sickening, the images of destruction and pain sitting in the stomach and rolling over and over, tightening its grasp the longer you stared at the sight. 

Ancom was scared, terrified, the streets were almost deserted, the rioters had moved on, not a cop insight, which was slightly reassuring but also a sign in it of itself. Scanning the streets the destruction stood out more and more, benches were laying on their sides the sides smashed and painted, litter was lying in heaps or caught up in the wind, dumpsters pulled out from allies and covered in graffiti dents and scratches, the slight whiff of smoke told qim to check for fires everywhere. Signs lay discarded on the roadside and a few shop windows were shattered glass laying like discarded teeth of a once mythical beast.

There were also people, strewn across the sides of the paths, in varying degrees of pain, but the only people qi was looking for were sitting in the alley. In qis ally.

Running out recklessly, qi didn’t even pay attention to what Ms Lori was calling after qim, a single-minded agenda. Taring across the damaged road, qi almost fell face forward tripping on the uneven stone.

“What the FUCK happened!?”

They were all crouched down surrounding someone laying out on the ground, qi ignored the sound of people coming up around qim. The pitiful whine of pain was undeniable, along with the warm stench of blood.

The group parted, revealing Anarcho-naturism. Her arm was being held up, over her head, blood dripping down it. Pooling on the floor. Ancom stood eyes blown wide, the rest of the group crouching, all silent in their collective shock. Another pitiful groan of pain.

Ms Lori snapped into action, taking control of the situation. 

“I’ll phone an ambulance, one of you should go with her,”

She pulled out her small box phone, that looked about a decade old, before glancing up once more. Commie stood a few steps behind her, looking awkward

“I’d prefer Ancom to stay back, qi can do basic first-aid and by the looks of it, we’ll need that.”

She glanced from ever side of herself up and down the road before they all stared back down at the bleeding girl on the floor,

“I’ll go.”

Anarcho-feminism (Anfem) looked uncomfortable, her hulking frame, drawn in on herself as she sat cross-legged on the concrete, she was the one holding Anarcho-naturism’s arm up above her head- lot of good it was doing-, her fingers white and trembling against the darker tone of her dying friend. Although she was losing her colour by the second.

“Thank you, I have a spare phone, it’s not very good, but I think it still has my number, Commie can you please grab it? It’s in the second grey shelf to the right.”

She glanced back at Commie, who immediately nodded and marched back to the small shop. Leaving us to talk without his unfamiliar presence.

“I’m going to go call the ambulance, you just- keep her awake.”

Ms Lori nodded at us once before slipping away to a quieter spot. They knew she was scared, the short twitch in her eye, the way she carried herself. She was terrified, but she hid it well if the hadn’t known her they would’ve thought she was as relaxed and confident as any front line war veteran. No amount of presser fazed her. But it was a lie,

“What happened?”

Ancom crouched just above her shoulder staring at qis fellow Anarchist with complete shock. Before noticing another red stain on her short sleeve, another wound. How had this happened? How had qi let this happen? Qi should have been here to help.

“Well, umm.”

Anfem began feebly, shifting her weight back and forth in an attempt to alleviate stress.

“Basically, the… protestors... they kinda came at us? And we- we were stuck in the back, ya know? ‘round that way.”

She gestured with her free hand up the street, stiffly shuffling so as not to lose her grip.

“And the people, they kinda well…”

“Ok. I’ve had enough with this stuttering explanation, come-on Anfem we can say it how it is. Basically we found her like this, we got cornered fucked some peoples shit up and then went around back to where we left her, cuz the no murdering policy -although they were still breathing when we left them- and she was crying, and bleeding from a few new holes. So we brought her here where she collapsed. so yeah.”

He frowned slightly, looking at Anfem with the closest to hurt in his eyes he had ever really had, Anarcho-Cyberist (Ancy) was never the real touchy-feely type, not one to talk about his emotions especially in front of so many people. 

But his face was drained of pigment and his hands shook. He was just as terrified as the rest, he was just too cocky to let it lead him. Or at least to inpatient to let something go. 

“I should’ve been there, I should’ve stayed back with her, protected her.”

Anarcho-Syndicalist (Ansyn) was sat frowning, his dark hair hanging over his eyes, he was staring at her though. Cold glare fixed upon her barely awake face. The glitter of his silver pocket knife reflected in his lap, even in the dark ally its blade caught all the glare it needed to seem almost otherworldly. He was pissed, pissed at himself pissed at the world.

Ancom could get that, qi was just as angry, pissed at what qi had left, qi should’ve been with them, but qi also had to help Ms Lori. regrets flew behind qis mind as the higher function took over. Help people, stay alive.

“Get her talking.”

No response, no reaction to the information. It was for the best. Leaning in, qi gently touched her face. Fingers brushing her paling skin, tentatively,

“Hey, how do ya feel?”

The expression she pulled would’ve been comical if not for the situation, her cheeks pulling up her brows furrowing, lips parted incredulously, although qi was sure what she said next was meant as a joke.

“I don’t know? Maybe a bit peckish, a bit sleepy, oh and absolute all-encompassing agony.”

But her smile was so ethereal, like lilies floating on the waves of a pond in the middle of a storm, so easily ripped away from their roots it was a miracle they had not already fallen apart. But she was the same as always, her scruffy oversized clothes held together with delicate stitching. Her long hair wiled, yet somehow always combed. Her eyes twinkling like the sunrise on a spring meadow, gently pooling out greeting the world, with warm rays

“Yeah… that’s fair. But- we’ve gotta keep you talking. Um...”

Ancom stared at her, trying and failing to draw some conversation out of the barely awake girl. Qi looked at the others desperately. But Ancy was sat staring at the pavement, Ansyn was brooding darkly and Anfem was just worrying. It was as though the second one of their group got injured they all fell apart. Ancom wouldn’t stand for this.

It was like this in the begging, when they were strangers on the underpass, sharing a bin because none of them could afford to spend the night alone. No one really knows why they all decided to spend the night there, even less understanding in why Ancy had stuck around, but they had been warmed y the flames, and it was nice, for the first time, having someone there who gave a little bit of a shit.

But now the silence hung like it had when they had first awkwardly shuffled to congregate around the little pit warmth they had.

“What’s your favourite memory from the past?”

Ancom stared at Annat who peered back at qim quizically, eyes slightly glazed, lips barely parted.

“I don’t know… maybe- maybe when, ya know, when Ancy and Ansyn got that guy, like the bloke under the bridge, remember him? They got him a phone… remember? He had just found out he was a grandfather… and he said he was gonna get himself together for that little bugger…”

The twinkle in her eye was so beautiful, it filled the small space with her unbridles memory of joy, the soft breathy laugh was sweet in the electrifying tension of fear.

“We all got the money together but then Ansyn just went and bought one, flat out, cash in hand, got the guy a shitty box phone, remember? Must’ve been his whole paycheck, and he just gave us back our cash, minus Ancy ‘cors. but...”

She looked so dreamy as though lost in the memory. Of course, Ancom remembered it, they had all pooled their money and in the end, Ansyn just stood up and went, he got the phone withAncys sister, but he got the phone and basically told the man to get himself a life, a real-life, one not spent under the bridge. 

It had been a bittersweet day, they had given him the phone, he had departed for good. Leaving the kids under the bridge alone for the first time ever.

Ancom had moved out a little after him, seeing as qi had a job, although qi still slept over there a lot of the time, preferring the company of qis fellow anarchists.

“Yea I remember… it was so sweet, everyone was so happy for him, but we were all sad to see him go.”

Her eyes darkened with what could almost be grief, it was a mixture of regret and hope for better days. She was always the hopeful dreamer, thinking we could save the earth, thinking we could protect ourselves. Thinking we could work to make a difference, maybe we could?

Anfem was smiling softly and even Ancy was looking up. As he reminisced about those days, the safe days. When he could hang out with them until the early hours of the morning. They had all began to insist he go home for dinner each night after he had a particularly scary drop in weight. But now they had to try focusing on protecting themselves, this was proof, the war was beginning and this tiny ragtag group had to protect themselves.

Finally, Ms Lori returned, trailed by the bulk of Commie, who continued to look cold and unimpressed, as he sized each member of the group up, an appraising eye. 

Ancom knew Ansyn wouldn’t take to being judged lightly and trying to avoid confrontation jumped up, startling Ancy and Ansyn dragging a low growl from one and a high yelp from the other. Grinning wickedly at them qi walked over to Ms Lori.

“Thank you.“

And qi hugged her really mean it too, arms tight around her back and her long hair tickling qis nose, the warmth of her body was comforting and everything sunk away for the few moments they were locked into the embrace. But subtly qi knew to whisper in her ear, 

“Keep Commie and Syn away from each other, unless we want a blood bath he’s shaken up, and being intimidated by a stranger won’t do us any good.”

She didn’t even show she heard qim, as she gripped qim by the shoulders and said firmly

“You are a brave and idiotic individual Ancom, and we wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Her smile was pure gold, her words warming qim to qis core. It was as though she had given qim a hot drink after an ice-cold winters night. Melting away the frost, the cold and reminding qim there was still such thing as warmth in this world.

“The ambulance will be here any minute,”

Her smile was infectious and she drew qim in once more

“Noted.”

She whispered with the hint of laughter hidden behind her voice. Of course, she knew Ansyn’s history, you’d be insane not to at this point. She released qim from the warm embrace, turning back to the still looming Commie.

“Before I forget.”

She smiled sweetly, taking the small phone from Commie and tossing it over to Anfem, who caught it with her free hand effortlessly.   
______________________________________________________________

It was difficult, there was a lot of people who needed help, healing and moving to a safer spot. Ms Lori’s little flower shop became crowded rather fast, making Ancom open the kitchen and set Ancy and Ansyn on the tent. Both taking to the job easily. Serving slightly sludgy soup to the many people scattered across the pavement curb.

Ancom was helping to stop minor blood flow and flagging down emergency staff for any major injury. Who had thankfully turned up after the ambulance had left with Annat and Anfem in the back. Really Ancom only had boy-scouts level medical training but it was better than nothing. Qi knew how to wrap a wound to stop bleeding and disinfect an injury. 

Commie was even helping, the hulking guy able to carry too people at a time would often remove any individual trying to hinder Ancom, Ms Lori or the medical team themselves. he would move the wounded and just generally do anything asked of him. Holding a man with a broken leg steady so the paramedic could do a fast check on him before sending him on. 

But everything had to end on a sour note, the shit day had to end even shittyer. Ancom was tired to the core, most of the injured people who could still move had gone home or to the hospital, only one paramedic remained and the soup kitchen was getting packed up once more.

There was a reason they had body bags, Ancom had to come to terms with that qi supposed. But when coming face to face with a dead man, it made it no less terrifying. He had been left to bleed out in one of the many allies, Ancom had missed him the first lap around through the allies, qi had dragged people out of dumpsters and off bags of waste. But he was there, in a pool of scarlet. Tucked away to the side. Eyes glazed and skin cold to the touch. How long could he have been dead?

When qi froze, stumbling back and letting out a high pitched gasp Commie had immediately run over, shot with sudden urgency. When he saw what qi was staring at in abject horror, he stood. Still as a bored, face unreadable. He seemed so calm, in direct opposition with Ancoms fear, rage, regret? He stood for a few moments, staring at a dead man. No human emotion to be detected. Before putting a hand on qis shoulder and leading qim away without a fight.

Someone else had to move the body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dead guy.  
> and like, this wasn't very cohesive, but I needed to use some steps forward, and this is really an easy enough introduction


	7. Flower stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> getting the flowers for Annat and Commie's looking at a book. that's like it.

The next few days after the riot was a strange blur. The streets were still scuffed and there were still bloodstains on the pavements. Now the dust had settled, it was clear that someone had put a sledgehammer or possibly worse to the road, as now large cracks were running up and down.

None of qis belongings had been broken or vandalized, the iron fence had hidden them well. But the carefully controlled life qi had organised for qimself had been thrown, once more, into disarray.

Qi just wished qi could wave a magic wand or ask a genie, get the rubble and damage cleared up and get these rich assholes to just go away. They had been shoving the homeless and other disadvantaged people aside, many companies just seeking out compensation from the government, getting their grubby hands on what should be going to the people to help rebuild. But a sea of lawsuits kept the government somewhat preoccupied with self-preservation. Letting the ordinary person to flote on the storming sea.

The only things qi remembered from the strange time ‘in-between’ was the nights, when qis mind ran wild, thoughts about the man. He really could’ve easily been any of them, he had been another one of the homeless, one of the guys who kept to himself. Never really talked up. But he was nice enough. 

Qi hadn’t recognised him till he was taken away. No one knew his name. He was just another person in the news strips. “Do you know this man” “do you recognise this woman” “please contact…” the storeys qi heard were getting more and more terrifying, no one mentions it overtly. But whispers of something terrible brewing were constantly exchanged. People weren’t happy, the Nazis were getting angrier and everything was falling to dog shit. 

Honestly, qi had no clue what would happen next. If there would even be a next. Maybe time will stop, maybe everyone dies tomorrow.

So The nights were long and dark, the days blinding and hectic. Everything was not as it seemed and nothing could be for certain.

But one day, the gang managed to agree, through disjointed conversations and a lot of note leaving and carrying they got a day where they all could go to the hospital to see her. It was honestly a bit of a miracle, usually, they had to fill their time with basic survive, none of them had free time during the day. But they all put aside any time they could to visit Annat. Get a bus and visit.

It was about an hour till the meet up to catch the bus, and qi had decided qi should probably pay Ms Lori a quick stop. Seeing as it had been a week since their last communication, qi knew she would want to pay Annat some kind words, and qi had about 5 to spend on a flower or two for qis friend. 

She must be going insane trapped inside the hospital; she had always hated being indoors too long, often fighting qim when the nights got so fringed she would’ve frozen outside not wanting to be inside but knowing it was her only chance. She was soft, often the sweetest of the group. But she was spirited and would fight anyone and anything she saw as unjust. 

They all fought what they saw as unjust qi supposed, as qi pulled the loose change out of qis socks, sat on the floor of the ally. They fought for what they saw as right and true, that was probably why they’d been so willing to talk to each other. Moths to a flame, but this flame didn’t kill them, on the contrary, it was all they had when the days grew dark.

Jumping up with light steady feet. Qi darted out of the ally like a rat, gracing the day with its usually nocturnal presence.

The sunlight was warm and carried this different invigorating glare when not experienced beneath the battered food tent. But qi could not bask in the warmth as the flower shop’s door was so close, the ground outside still panted with those wiled rainbow swearing designs, hundreds of colours pooling out wildly. Qi always played this weird game, where qi had to stick to one colour for as long as possible sidestepping until qi reached the door, the colours got so tightly packed qi always lost near the end. But that was ok, as qi was going to qis safe place.

The small shop was mostly deserted, save for the hundreds of potted plants all number of shades and shape, reaching ou from every table chair and wall. Qi didn’t look long really as Minarchist greeted them happily

“Hey, Ancom! How are you holding up?”

His voice was happy but soft, more gentle than his normal peppy beat, 

“Yeah man, doing just fine!”

That was a bit of a stretch. Qi was going to be alright, qi knew it, qi always was. Get through the bullshit get through the struggle, there was light at the end of the tunnel, qi just felt blindfolded and dizzy. But that would pass also, so qi was alright. Qi was fine.

“What’s up?”

He asked with a soft smile, he was so dumb sweet, like diabetes sweet, it was strange, in any other situation qi was sure qi would’ve hated him, shit taste in partners, from the richer side of town, a bit over the top at times. And generally, not anyone qi would voluntarily associate with. But he was a sweet, all be it nieve, person and qi couldn’t really fault him for not getting the world and the unjustness of it all. He thought treating others right was the right thing to do. He saw the world as an open bord, everyone was up against the odds, those who worked-hard would win. But qi knew that was just not true. But it was difficult to break the sheltered world view.

“We’re gonna go see Annat, ya know, nature-queen?”

He frowned for a few moments before the realisation that she must’ve been the one-off in an ambulance, he nodded and qi continued,

“She kinda hates being stuck indoors so… get her flowers? Also like I wanted to check if Ms Lori wanted to get me to say anything to her…”

I smile awkwardly as he nodded once more, 

“Well, I guess that’s cool?”

He winced at the phrasing but I didn’t hold it against him, he was doing his best. But qi still felt...

“So how have you and your… ‘friend’ been doing?”

Qi smirked evilly at him as he froze up for a few seconds.

“Yeah... yeah things are doing… ok?”

He sounded uncertain, but his shoulders lowered, opening himself up a bit. An awkward smile cracking his face, uncomfortable and uncertain but the twinkle in his eyes was hopeful. Ancom wondered if that would be paid off.

“I've only got enough for like 3 flowers,” Ancom placed the louse change on the counter. “You give me anything you can, I guess?” Ancom smiled the familiar wicked grin, like fire in the setting sun. “And am I gonna get to know the guy's name, by chance?”

Minarchist had begun to stare down at the change, counting it up, before being caught off guard by Ancom’s playfully asked question. Looking up with slight shock.

“Umm.. I… maybe?”

He spluttered for a few moments before Ancom laughed, trying to soothe the sudden discomfort.

“Only messing with ya’, tell me when you're comfortable. I get it, no need to rush these things.”

He smiled, a golden genuine smile

“Thanks, ma-,” he cut himself off frowning once more “sorry- person…”

He frowned and wrinkled up his nose. I just stood, watching as he struggled to find equivalents that didn’t sound too awkward or wrong. People always got so hung up. I guess it was fair, some people did get upset at it, you wouldn’t call a room full of dudebros girls but you can call a gaggle of girls guys. 

“Dude its fine. Man can be used genderneutral, sort-of, like mankind and all that is equivalent to everybody. Makes no odds, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

He sighed once more, looking apologetically at qim, before turning back to the money, 

“Alright, cuz you’re nice and cuz we have a load of loose heads, I can probably get you a bunch of randoms, they won’t match but like…”

He looked at qis mismatched clothes with a raised brow, although his eyes twinkled with humour. It was like him to criticize how others dressed, even though he had no idea what the first rules of the fashion world were. 

Ancom smirked and spread qis arms out wide with a melodramatic flourish, making the baggy hoodie qi always wore out, appear like bat wings. The Good-Will pare of poofy black and white bottoms billowing out. Qi was the picture of oddness, but qi never really cared. 

“Why of course, nothing should be matching! each person like the flowers is an individual. We should never be expected to fit in.”

Louder than life, someone once compared qim to a jet engine, when you begin its kinda terrifying but then you get used to it, once it goes quiet, however, everyone notices. The smile they both shared, the spark of insanity they always enjoyed was familiar and pleasant, not unlike a hug from an old friend. Minarchist pottered around for a few moments, going over to the flower bunches with graceful ease and gathered some of the loose flowers scattered on the assembly table.

He smiled at the mismatched bunch, some stalks were cut too short or a few petals were missing, but the beauty of the flowers remained. He returned to the counter with the bunch clasped in his hands so as not to let it fall apart while struggling to tie them together with the other free hand, using an old white ribbon that was frayed at the ends.

“Alright. I need to get Lori to sign off, because, not an ordinary deal… but she won’t mind. See you in a second.”

He smiled before grabbing the loose change and departing to go into the small back rooms. Leaving the flowers on the countertop. Ancom smiled, looking around absently. Qi was happy to just stand in what qi thought was a deserted shop, but as qis eyes drifted qi noticed for the first time, how the fuck had qi missed him entirely?

Commie sat hunched over at one of the tables, required for displaying small potted flowers, he had cleared a semicircle of pots for himself. He had a book open in front of him and he was staring intensely at the pictures as he fiddled with the delicate flowers, careful not to crush them. He seemed hyper fixated on the intricate work, his gaze intense and unwavering, his finger stokes were gentle but sure as his eyes dragged slowly over the book, propped up and open against a larger pot to his side. He was making something.

Commie hadn't noticed Ancoms staring. It was intriguing, qi had so many different feelings attached to his existence. When he had first interacted with qim he was more of just an asshole, a wall of muscle ready to throw qim out to the wolves when all qi wanted to do was help, then Minarchist had called him docile or something to that effect, then he was called sweet.

That was all wrapped with the fact of his reaction to the dead man’s body. He was anomalous, and that was only from his first few interactions. Qi had only heard him talk a few times, and even then it was always rather short, straight to the point, his accent hindering more complex thoughts qi supposed. But then the book he was reading, what Ms Lori said about changing the world.

But he seemed so focused, relaxed, in his element. Everything was still in the shop for a few moments. It was clear he would not be roused from his focus and Ancom (for once) was ok with letting the silence linger.

Finally Ms Lori and Minarchist return, one after the other, Ms Lori still had the stains of dirt on her sleeves and one glove remaining on. Her hair was also tied back, letting her round face glow brightly with her sunshine essence smile.

“Hi, sweetie!”

Her voice was upbeat, singsong and warm, she was a ball of energy and Ancom couldn’t help but reciprocate her smile and excitable attitude. 

“Hi, Ms Lori!”

“We getting Annat some flowers I see. Could you send her my condolences and possibly a request to come to visit her later in the week?”

She smiled across the counter as she spoke.

“Oh, and I thought you might…”

She slid the change back to Ancom. Not another word uttered as she lent back airly.

Ancom rased one of qis eyebrows sceptically,

“It’s ok, I get I still have to pay. I’m a customer. This is capitalism.”

Qi smiled, but Ms Lori stuck fast

“Nu-uh I insist.” she smiled before pushing the change further so that it was in front of qim. “Now take the flowers to Annat and make sure she’s, you know, ok.”

Ancom sighed heavily, qi had had this type of fight with her hundreds of times, over so many small favours, she would go hungry for the street kids and Ancom felt guilty almost all the time for it, not understanding how she kept afloat when she was constantly having to care for so many kids.

Laboriously, qi picked up the loose change. Qi was just going to have to get something nice at the hospital, possibly chocolate, if Annat was allowed it. 

“Now that that’s cleared up. How are you?”

Her voice developed this softer tone as she inspected qim with an appraising eye.

“Have you been eating? Have they been treating you right? Its been a few days, what have you been up to?”

No accusation in her tone, more reproachful that qi had steered clear for so long

“Nothing much, damage control, the people we’re trying to help keep getting shoved off, something about a lawsuit. you know anything about-”

Ancom didn’t finish the sentiment before Minarchist jumped in

“I do.”

He seemed rather dejected, as he commented, eyes cast down. He hovered in the doorway, back pressed on the frame.

“Yeah. I think- I think I know the kid of the people. Pulling this bull…”

He looked up awkwardly,

“Ya know, my friends”

Ancom knew his friends, the lovely lot of asshole entitled scum bags. They had been the people who introduced Minarchist to the last shitty guy. 

“Yellow and purple?”

Ancom cocked an eyebrow at him, judgingly. Minarchist smiled and gritting his teeth.

“Yup.”

“Please ask them to stop fucking with the homeless.”

Ancom smiled an overtly fake smile, more of a grimace but it melted into a slightly dejected smile.

“Don’t think that’ll move them, and- anyway... they haven’t really got any control over their parents’ decisions.”

Ancom sighed but nodded, yeah. He was right. Rich kids, for the privilege of growing up in opulence, wouldn’t really get any relationship with their parents (or at least in this hell hole city, where washed-up celebrities go to die if you want to get bank your life has to revolve around your cash flow.

“Your right, and yes, Ms Lori, I have been eating, I work in a soup kitchen. And before you ask I’ve been making sure the others eat as well.”

She smiled and nodded happily, 

“That’s good.”

“Well, I’ve gotta meet the gang in like 15 minutes, so I’d better be headed to the stop.”

Ancom smiled and began to back out of the shop

“Oh, and I’ll send her both your condolences,”

Ancom winked before ducking out of the shop, flowers in hand and loose change in qis hoodie pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, this was more filler, but this is the end of my first dump.  
> imma write till I get to 40 pages on google dogs again and I'll re-throw, but till then this is on break.
> 
> oh and like next chapter is gonna be the anarchists, so I'm hoping to try writing chaos. whenever that is. and like I'm shitty on timelines but imma put this like 3-6 days after the riot. so like it's been a second. for them but not too long


	8. Hospitals and family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at writing groups, I tried but this is weird,   
> sorry, this is anarchist centric just need to get a half story kinda running?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, cuz it's pride (and I have them done) I'm posting the next two chapters!  
> both are very centres around the anarchist gang, so like, gays?  
> I sorta got sexuality laid out, no one is straight.
> 
> :) hope you like whatever this is!

Qi supposed the hospital would be a bit of an adventure, but now the small gaggle hovered outside the doors, the realization and by extension, bone-crushing anxiety settled in. 

They looked the part, of someone unwelcomed in such public spaces, ill-fitting clothes, unkempt hair. They looked homeless nad young and possibly dangerous. The hospital would send them away at first glance. To hell with there trip to see there friend, these kids were nothing but trouble, they would fuck up the hospital, call a bomb in try killing an old man. Do anything and everything to make trouble.

Ancom had never claimed to be anything close to rational, as qis mind ran wild the rest of the group began the short trek to the hospital entranceway, past the bike rack, past the wheel-chair ramp and up the grey foreboding stares. They had used the bus, thankfully dropping off at the hospital regularly. Otherwise, the walk to the hospital would’ve probably taken a day of nonstop motion and even then they wouldn’t have gotten there before dark.

“You joining us Ancom?”

Anfem called over her shoulder sceptically. Her voice was soft, almost lost in the wind, but qi knew she was just anxious. She’d been the last one with Annat, had stayed with her for the whole night, and the day after she was taken. But she had to return, to make sure everyone else was alive, she was the one with the full extent or what we hoped was the full extent of her injuries.

“Uh- yeah, sorry…”

Ancom jumped before running after the group who was already making their way up the foreboding staircase, why was qi so nervous? This was neutral territory as far as the anarchist knew, no attacks at a hospital, that was like common knowledge. 

The waiting room was vast, almost as large as the open fields just outside the city limits. The carpet was a simple two-tone-brown checkerboard and the seating was overflowing from almost any wall.

People milled around in small groups or waited in the plentiful seating. The room, however, was surprisingly quiet, people talked in hushed tones strolling across the carpeted ground without a sound. Qi knew that wouldn’t last and honestly didn’t want it to. But at the same time, dreaded the next adventure, qi loved qis friends but sometimes qi was scared they would all get killed for being too obvious one day. The city wasn’t nice to people like any of them. And they had been kicked out of many the building for being too loud.

Anfem went to the counter and, seemingly right on cue, Ansyn began to talk very loudly with Ancy about whether or not they recognised the rather shady looking man in the corner, his site was barely fitted and his posture was bot poised and closed. He looked as though he was waiting for an attack. The pair were making more and more outlandish claims of where they had recognized them from,

“Ya know, I think he’s from the charity, the ones that gave everyone those shitty jackets, ones that were better used being burned that trying to say warm in.”

Ansyn frowned at the men, pointedly staring at them,

“No, I think they’re from that building repair firm, the ones that kicked Jerry out for squatting.”

Ancom could feel the men and, by extension, the people around them begging to catch on to their not so subtle conversation

“Can’t be them… those guys looked nice! Gave me some of their hot cocoa. He doesn’t look so nice, won’t sare their shit with anybody. Basterd businessmen.”

Ancy frowned.

“Could always be their boss. That guy was nasty!”

“Yeah, he was. But I don’t think it’s him ever, what about that dealer guy, ya know, the one all up his own ass!”

Ancy nodded slowly, 

“Yeah same face, same bitchy smile. Could be, but isn’t he dead?”

Ansyn looked taken aback

“What? Did he die? When did- how did?”

Ancy cut him off with a sigh

“Honestly am I the only one to read the news?”

“All you read are forum posts…”

Ancy spoke over him louder this time

“No. The bloke got wrapped up in the big bad, he tried pulling a fast one on the higher-ups ‘n the city centre. Yeah, apparently they found the body. No one was convicted tho.”

“Spooky. Ok so probably not him, Ummm...”

The man was dressed in a nice navy blue blazer, a button-down white shirt and fancy dress shoo, this was slightly marred as his clothes were actually hanging off him slightly baggy, but who was qi to judge? but Ancom agreed someone so nicely dressed (or attempting to dress nicely) was obviously some exploitative capitalist. 

Qi also knew if the pair pushed him too far, it would be security escorting them out.

“Guys, move. Now.”

Ancom grunted, through gritted teeth, at the pair. Qis eyes glinting with barely concealed panic as the large expansive room seemed to close in blocking out the exits, no escape. Leaving qim alone with the pair and these disapproving strangers. The other two looked at qim with a shared confused expression.

“Whatcha’ say Comm?”

Ancy asked his skinny frameshifting uncomfortably under the unwavering gaze of his fellow anarchist. Ancom just turned and began to walk, hoping the others would just follow. People were talking behind newspapers, behind hands, when they walked by. It was like the school corridors all over again but this time if qi started a fight, there were a lot more people who qi couldn’t gauge anything from apart for anger and disappointment. 

“We’re going to the corner.”

Ancom repeated qimself before powering off, the disapproving whispers and the angry looked caste the small groups was enough for the other two to realize their mistake.

Skittering behind qim like rats, neither of them looked very apologetic. But they were willing to follow qim, away from the perceived danger.

The man in the navy blue blazer narrowed his eyes face pinching in anger. Ancom wanted nothing more but to sink away from this reality. 

Sometimes, the stars would aline, nothing could tell qim anything other than qi had the world and life qi wanted, qi had friends, qi was expected, qi was on qis way to a better life and qi was going to be ok. But then people like the blazer guy turned up. With his calculating gaze and bitter heart. Something like qim was worse than vermin to people like that.

Qi let qis feet drag qim away, to the far corner, where only an ancient man sat, head held in his hands. Qi knew to give him a wide birth but the other two jumped at the opportunity to ‘make friends’ aka make qis life an anxiety-ridden hell-scape. 

Qi glanced over at Anfem, who still stood in the queue waiting to be seen by the reception ladies, she was still a few people back, and the line was slow to move. Qi wouldn’t be saved any time soon.

“Hi!”

Ancy was a peppy kid, or at least really good at faking excitement. He sat back in the chair on the left of the man, whose head was still bowed

“My names Ancy! What’s your name?”

The man looked at him with these deep-set eyes, the shadow of so many words and storeys hidden just behind their lids,

“My name?”

He frowned at the Ancy, he had clearly been in deep thought and was justly supprised at being dragged out of his little world so unceremoniously.

“Yeah! My names Ansyn!”

Ansyn was on his other side, he was soft in his delivery, similar to his attitude, sweet as sugar and all that edge lord touting bull. 

Qi knew he had a knife hidden just below his baggy t-shirt, it was the only thing keeping qim sane. Knowing they at least had a weapon. 

Ansyn was always soft when first approaching, not when approached -then he is as brash and rude as he wants-, but if he is the one to approach a stranger he treats them with the utmost respect: something about respect and peace Ancom never bothered with logistics, living in the moment and not digging into qis friends psyche kept them all alive. 

The ancient man looked at the boys with slight confusion, Ancom purposefully hung back, remaining unnoticed by the three.

“Hello? Um- yes. My name.”

He continued to frown glancing backwards and forwards between the pair. Both of them were leaning in rather melodramatically in Ancoms opinion. But they were both being civil so it was ok qi supposed.

“Graeme. Graeme Ruger.”

He smiled weakly at the two, for a split second before both of them lept back in inexplicable joy. Both of them were smiling this almost evil manic grin. Like nothing really explained before.

“I love the name!”

Ancy yelled

“Yeah!”

Ansyn returned

“Really got that old kick! Y’ know? like old Frankie, from the bridge, real down to earth vibes!”

Now Ancom was seeing the warning signs, the room was beginning to close in again, the weird stares the desperate soul-crushing anxiety. This was what it felt like. Drowning in the ocean of disapproving stares and whispered comments.

“Guys. shush. We don’t wanna get kicked out.”

Ancom’s voice was surprisingly level, for the desperate influx of pure panic surging up inside qis chest. Why was it always like this? Can’t qi just chill for one moment and stop worrying about what others think? But the fear was bubbling. Why did they want to talk to anyone? This old guy could’ve been a rich billionaire who ripped the lively hoods away from people. He could be a racist asshole he could be bigoted. Why did they have to go out and do such sociable things?

Qi was an anxious wreck, that’s why qi hung out with the group.they were the best social group qi could’ve wished for, they were gutsy and brave and all-around really reckless. But that’s what qi needed, someone to follow into the unknown, the group filled the void a family left.

“Yeah-yeah Ancom, we hear ya! Sit down, we’re not gonna make a scene, just making friends.”

Ansyn glanced over his shoulder to respond to Ancom’s warning. The big toothy grin on his face, he was always a bit weird, lovely and delectably polite, yet gruff and hard working. He was also creepy and could be cold even distant. Realistically he was just another kid trying to live his life. A knife on his person and revolution in his eyes. But he was a survivor first.

Ancom bit qis lip, trying to force down the anxious feeling within qis soul. Qi felt exposed, in a way not unlike when qi had to change, no one was looking, qi was just imagining it, but it felt so real. The disapproving glared from earlier were real, why not these ones. But Ancom did sit down, head bowed and hands folded. Not wanting to look at anything, for fear they may be looking back.

“So like… why you here?”

Ancy asked as he shuffled in his chair, qi saw his face out of the corner of qis eye,   
Honestly, they would be the death of qim; he was sat upside down in the chair, struggling to look up at the man, Graeme.

He smiled wetly down at the boy, with this wistful glitter in his eye, a mourning man, he stared down, Ancy sat so oddly in the chair.

“I’m here to see my granddaughter.”

He continued to smile. No more explanation than that and Ansyn must’ve seen the warning signs, beginning to open his mouth to stop Ancy. But the younger was operating a few parallel universes faster than the others.

“Really? How old is she? Why’s she here?”

He was fast and goofy, but they all saw the man deflate a little at the overly happy boy.

“I don’t actually know. I only just found out she’s alive today....” 

He had a soft voice, a light voice something wistful and anxious. Ancom wanted to shy away, the man seemed so low. Broken in a way never really recognised by the anarchist. 

Ancy dropped back at this, he stumbled back, as if a gush of wind had just off-balanced him within his mind. Ansyn just stared, no real emotion gracing his face as he stared at the man, for a few long moments. Both boys looked at Ancom, who only offered a weak smile.

No one knew how to react. It was awkward. Graeme was an intense cookie.

The silent vigil, waiting for someone to react with any form of emotion was crushed, by the chipper tone of Anfem. Her hulking frame was surprisingly bouncy bubbly in every step she took, as she strutted over to them, eyes cast down to the few documents she held, plopping around in her left hand.

“You, guys! So like we have her room and what-not… I had to do some persuading.”

She looked up, to see the scene as it was suspended. 

An ancient-looking man sat, head bowed, both Ancy and Ansyn were flanking him. Ancy was sat upsidedown in his chair. Ansyn just stared blankly into space.

Ancom was sat, head bowed across from them, qis face was scrunched up in this awkward expression, bordering between wanting to cry and wanting to scream.

“Ok,” she said glancing between the silent people “are we leaving? Or are you guys gonna fix whatever happened?”

She was sharp in tone but tone alone. Her body language was open and although her intimidating frame, it was somewhat gentle. Angling herself towards the man and the two anarchists.

Ancom was, to say the least, relieved she had come over. The pair were always a struggle when together. Usually, Ancom was just present to try act as damage control, but qi was shit at that, qis life was built around ripping down unjust hierarchies and making a better world, not avoiding blame or misleading others or telling someone else what to do. 

None of them really ever wanted to mislead people or lead people they were the workers, the dream chasers the future seekers. But recognising when things became dangerous had become yet another skill necessary to qis, and all of the groups, survival.

“It’s no worries, it was my fault. Really, these boys did nothing wrong.”

Graeme gave a lukewarm smile, like the ocean on an almost summers day when most of the cold nip had been dispelled, but the ocean still held the memory of icy cold waves ripping away at ancient cliffs, or washing over deserted beaches.

“Oh? Really, they did nothing to upset? -that’s a first-” she mumbled the last part, trying to act as though she had not meant to say it so loud, but she meant it. Between them, Anfem was the most accustomed to dealing with this type of social discourse mess. With polite words and an endearing smile, as well as a rather intimidating physique, she was able to even when looking like a tramp get people to see things from her point of view.

“I can assure you.”

The man replied, dull eyes shining with what could almost be described as humour, although the haunting of sadness still lingered, twinkling dully.

“Well, in that case.” Anfem drew herself up slightly, although it was unnecessary, as she was already taller than the people seated. “We have her room, we should be moving. I do apologise, nether the less, for the possible inconvenience my friends have posted. Have a nice afternoon.”

She snipped out lightheartedly before strutted off, not waiting for the others to follow, she knew none of them would let her out of their sight, or at least if they did, they knew how to find her in a crowd.

The slightly dumfounded but resigned Ansyn was dragged by the forearm by a slightly exasperated Ancom, Ancy was next to them both, chipper as always. The spark of mischief that had been crushed momentarily, by Graeme’s rather depressing reply, was back.

The trio scurried off after her, only hurriedly apologising to him as they brushed by. Just another random encounter with a bunch of strangers, just another failed attempt at being nice and sociable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also like, the riots are crazy, holy smokes, this has been building for a while,   
> and I am all for the protestors, but like. yeah...   
> scary shit.   
> Been following it best I can, really intense stuff...


	9. Family waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> family waiting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still bad at groups, but like we already knew that.

The walk to Annats room was short and quiet, no one talked, as we all had to jog to keep up with Anfem, the only real conversation exchange was her double-checking with both Ancom and Ansyn that the man was indeed not bothered by them, or possibly a bother to them. The concerned almost motherly nature she held for all her friends shining through in some of the best ways.

“If he’d been a twat, I’d of smashed a skull in, no questions asked.”

She commented, eyes seeming to bore straight through Ancom, like qi wasn’t there, and in qis sted, the body of the dead man lay upon the floor, mangled and bloodied, injured and left to be eaten by the elements.

Ancom stored that rather morbid picture away for later dissection. Instead, redirecting qis attention back to keeping up with Anfem as she marched forward, a job to be fulfilled and neither man nor beast could get in her way, or really should try. She was not inept with a knife.

The hospital had many floors, the group had to go up several flights of stairs, they should’ve taken an elevator but Ancy hated being trapped in the small compartment, hed watched hundreds of videos where people enter an elevator and never leave and had developed both an obsession with conspiracy-theories and a deep fear of elevators.

So they took the stares, Ancom and Anfem commenting on the high amount of female minority workers the hospital hired, probably because the wage gap was somehow allowed to exist in a government-owned property. Ansyn randomly interjected about workers rights, slightly preoccupied with Ancy, who kept asking him to race. 

It was almost with manic glee the fore tumbled out of the chipped paint doors, with the iron mesh windows, into the corridor. 

Everything was so white and clean and bright, pristine and stagnant. Like the shocking bright light of the street lamps, installed to make it impossible for the homeless to sleep there without developing a headache. Although they had been in the hospital for some time now, the bright white gave qim a headache. But a light head injury never stopped qim before, so it won’t stop qim now.

Anfem stared down at her -now crumpled- documents, eyebrow raised as she walked along forwards, counting the doors. 

“78...79...80…”

She mumbled under her breath as she stumbled uncertainly now. Leading the trio to trail behind. 

“Here it is, room, 83.”

She smiled back at the three of them, as she began to open the door. Ancom’s anxiety then decadent it would be the perfect time to kick in. enveloping qim like a cloud of random thoughts. 

What if she didn’t want to see any of them? What if she hated qim? What if she died? What if she forgot them? It was all dumb, baseless ramblings and qi knew it was, but the anxiety the whispering the drowning desperate words usually won over reason in any argument. “What if”, was somehow more appealing qim then thinking about anything logically.

Not to say qis anxiety was a bad thing. It was one of the only things that kept qim alive for so long, kept qim moving forward. But it was as though Ancom was hard-wired to always think that people despised qim. Even if qi thought the best in most individuals, believed without capitalism and maybe some LSD everyone would just get along. Qi just couldn’t find the faith to let others tell qim qi was not annoying, that qi was tolerable, even pleasant be hang around with. Qi was anxious that qi wasn’t enough, even if qi thought everyone was worthy of love and respect, that always seemed to exclude qim.

But it was too late to tell them to turn back, and the other two anarchists were flanking qim from behind, like a net, not giving qim an escape route. Qi knew they would never do it intentionally, always letting each other an escape route was one of the unspoken rules of the street kids, but qi was still frustrated at the lack of ways out.

The door was opened and qi was pressed forward into the somehow even brighter ward, the sounds up and down were distracting, mounting on qis anxiety. The bustling people the never-ending chaos of it all, it was a recovery area, of sorts. Lots of iv drips and curtained off individuals, no real free space.

But Annat was in a bed in the further ends of the ward, laying flat out on her back, the only reason qi noticed her was because Anfem pointed her out. 

She stared blankly, a plastic tube up her nose and bandages still visible, but she was alive. Her eyes followed the group members as each of them settled around the bed. A small weak smile growing across her face.

As there were only two chares and no one was confident enough to grab another Ancom lent against the base of the bed, Anfem settled in one of the chares, while Ansyn sat in the other, Ancy settling on the arm.

“How are you feeling?”

We all knew Anfems question was dumb, it was obvious she felt shitty, cooped up inside, constant noise, hospitals. But she at least summoned the energy to smile feebly.

“You know… not my best.”

A light laugh followed by a wince told Ancom all qi needed to know.

“So, like,” Ancy frowned, clearly planning on skipping the niceties, “What were you really hit by? What’s the injury list? You think you can be out of here soon?”

His head cocked curiously as he shuffled slightly on the arm of the rather rickety seat. He’d clearly not been tired by the racing in the stairwell, a bundle of untapped energy as always.

“Oh ya know, a few stab wounds, a bit of a concussion. Oh, and I have a grandfather I never knew about.”

Her voice was soft and detached, similar to when she got high, but it held this strange intercity. Like she was trying to get through past the haze but just couldn’t, instead, letting a subconscious mind struggle alone.

Silence sat, as she continued to seemingly internally struggle, the bombshell she’d just dropped sitting in the air, a mine filed of terrifying possibility

“So … “ Anfem finally broke the silence, her voice chipped yet so clearly uncertain the feeble waver could’ve been recognised by a toddler. ”Is this a cult grandad? Or like… not?”

While Anfem talked the others just sort of staring at their bed-bound comrade with disbelief, Annat was always alone, disowned, no one would take her. She was with them because they all had lost a family. If she had a family, one that cared about her. 

Ancom’s mind started back up, at full speed, desperately piecing together a hideous story, qi was going to louse them all, they would all find someone better then qim, and they would leave, like that, poof.

“Yeah, not a cult grandad, a real one. He wants to… he wants to meet me.”

Her voice became uncertain, as she stared off at something that wasn’t there. Simply drifting off to other lands, where everything wasn’t so complicated.

Ancom stared at the bandages on her arms and stomach, she wore a hospital nightgown (she usually dispised wearing clothes she had not partially made) she fiddled with the thin sheets of the bedding.

“You wanna meet him?”

Ansyn was leaning in now, one eyebrow raised in curiosity, his voice steady and unwavering, inspecting every tiny detail, analysing. He was always this intense when things got serious, but it still felt like whiplash to Ancom, as qi struggled to take in the information and keep up with the disjointed exchange of words.

“I… I don’t- I don’t know.”

She looked up slightly, her green eyes alining with his for a few seconds,

“And why’s that?”

“Because I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You don’t know if you’ll ever be ready,” 

he retorted fast and sharp, voice icy yet firm. Like he was trying to get a point across that had been desperately reiterated a thousand times, patience running thin but the passion behind his words still lingering.

“Do what YOU think best. We will back you no matter what. You don’t need us to tell you what to do any other times, it’s no different now. Do what’s best for you. I trust you, we all trust you. Trust yourself.”

Ancom frowned, Ansyn was being rather profound and sensible, both not usually in the skill set of the brash, loud, hearty worker. 

Annat was staring at him with this unreadable expression,

“Ok.”

Her voice shook barley like she was a building in the middle of an earthquake. Struggling to hold together as its foundations rocked. There was silence for a few prolonged moments after, where no one dared to talk, for fear of breaking the spell of whatever had just happened. But Ancy, seemingly never one for tact, blurted out,

“So like, weird. But umm, I wanted to ask you something.”

He froze in the middle of talking, eyes blowing widener slightly, then he dropped his gaze to the floor uncomfortably. He realised he had broken another silence with his larger than life antics.

“You wanted to ask me?”

Annat prompted, leaning over to the younger anarchist, the soft warm smile she reserved for them all when they were wholly and truly themselves.

“Umm…. it’s not very… nice.”

He mumbled softly, head still bowed down awkwardly.

“Well, you’ve started the thought now.”

Ansyn commented, turned in the little room the seat gave him to better look at the kid, Ancy’s previous upbeat demeanour dampened by the shadowy gloom lurking just beyond his eyes.

“Well, I wanted to know, um, ya know. Do you remember the… Person who. Stabbed you?”

He was shifting from side to side as he talked, still avoiding eye contact. 

We had all wanted to know. Just so we could be a step closer to beating that mans ass, but no one really thought to actually ask. Apart from him of course.

To her credit, Annat just smiled.

“The only thing I really remember is a skinny white skinhead, with a mask. He was like every other bastard there. Just this one just had a knife, and got the better of me,”

She paused for a moment to draw in a breath, a more contemplative expression curling her features 

“but… now that I think. He had a swastika tattoo on his arm. It had a rather well-done intricate blue flower, I believe it was an attempt of a cornflower from a downwards perspective, not an amazing way of capturing its beauty but howdy-ho. The swastika was held in the middle, like the flower was blooming around it, cradling it, I guess? I was a bit disoriented. Sorry if that’s not enough for you, it’s just all I can think of him,”

Ancy looked at her, his usually extremely soft playful features becoming hard and scrutinizing, the big brown eyes becoming stormy as he thought for a few seconds, his expression not faltering, relentless. The smile lines hardening the curved mischievous smile dropping into an almost flat line.

“Ok.”

He was quiet, lost in his own stormy world. 

And, with that, the group fell silent once more. 

It wasn’t exactly awkward, not in the way a waiting room was awkward; as you sit in silence for something, anything to shatter the tension, strangers building on the entice fear of not standing out. 

This? 

It was just quiet they waited, like the waiting room, for it to be broken, but they were not seeking out an escape or avoiding eye-contact and human contact.

Sadly qi was never good at letting the silence hang, always needing something to fill it, even if it was just offhand comments or randomly occurring thoughts,

“I have some flowers… and Ms Lori says hi... and um...”

Ancom pulled the flower sling off qis back, they had been tied onto qim by a rather ragged piece of cloth, stained by use and being out in the streets, like the rest of the broken souls. It had carried countless belongings, hiding them defending them, the ragged sheet often hiding drugs or food.

Qi continues to talk, eyes averted, to fumble with the small knot tied to keep them in place.

“She wanted me to ask you… she wanted me to ask you about like, letting her visit? -That sounds sorta weird…- but she probably just wants to check-in, ya know?”

The flowers were untied, the bunch tumbling out onto the bed, the mismatched heights making it a variety of random outlandish shapes and shades. Annats eyes lit up at the sight, the wild bunch of flowers so bright compared to the stark white of the ward.

“Those look lovely!”

She exclaimed, a large smile brightening her face.

“Yeah, thought you might like ‘em. Minarchist picked them. Oh and speaking of, ya know he might have a new bloke. He said he’d even let me and Ms Lori meet the guy!”

Ancom smiled at Annat as she raised a brow with good-humoured scepticism. Like she was both trying to hold back a chuckle and questioning the sanity of the situation.

“Our little capitalist found another fascist we will inevitably have to beat up?”

Her smile was warm and humorous, although we all knew the weight behind her words. Anfem lent in, an intrigued expression now casting a shadow across her eyes as she inclined her head. Ansyn just glances around paranoidly, but that was to be expected of him really, and although Ancy still looked detached slightly he was clearly playing some fraction of attention to the conversation, eyes not as glazed as they were when he was in la-la-land.

“I don’t know… he’s not a good person, but- Minarchist can make his own choices, he’s a big boy, he doesn’t need us breathing down on his neck like some statist. And if the guys just too bad? All we need to do is hold some intervention, or better yet, finance out where he lives and-.”

Ancom commented idly, before abruptly cutting qimself shot, remembering where they were. The rest of the group, those who were paying attention anyway, nodded in agreement clearly understanding what the cut-off was in purpose for. 

Minarchist was a dumbass, he made bad choices in who he dated. But it was up to him, no one got to control him, even if he was a bit of a statist, they would respect his individuality.

“So speaking of respecting individuality? Are we gonna talk about Annats little grandad? I know this is strictly family, and it’s cool if you don’t want my fat head butting in, but like... Who is he if he ain’t with the fashy’s cult?”

Anfem was looking at Annat with this rather peculiar expression, Ancom couldn’t place it. The pinches in her cheek and the intense gaze, that was still relaxed enough to not seem encroaching. 

Ancom was also curious, qi had heard hundred of storeys when the nights got rigidly cold and the stars would hang so clearly in the sky, they all feared one of them would wake up frozen, so they chose to sit around the slowly dying flames, talking too deeply about their pasts. Lost to the ever-present need for sleep, and the unending fear of loss. There was no time left for worrying about what the others may think.

Annat’s life before was just as shit as anyone else’s, she was a nature hoe, she loved the planet, would fight for it. And her Uncle wanted to do the same, he just did it for the wrong reasons. Eco-Fascist’s cult was a family-wide thing, it was a close-knit community of eco crazy/race crazy zealots. You could only marry those deemed of higher value, and he was simply a bastard in general. 

“Well, I have to answer his request, apparently he’s here right now. Came as soon as a family member was reached, it was him, only one to answer the phone. And no he isn’t part of the cult, Uncle Eco-Fash never really liked him much, and then he went off and…”

She frowned and stared off for a few moments,

“Ya’ know, I don’t actually know what he did, he just got kicked, never saw him again. Poof. First him than my brother, then my dad. One after another.”

She sighed again, looking Anfem in the eye with a steady green gaze.

“Should I say yes? Should I meet him? I don’t want to go back to my old… but he was lost before the going got to shit…”

She spoke in a soft tone anxiously fumbled with her hands, no real attention paid to anything but Anfem’s slowly shifting expressions.

“It’s up to you.”

It was up to her to decide. 

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Turns out Graeme Ruger wasn’t kidding when he said he hadn’t known if she was alive.

“Hi... again?”

Was the only thing Ansyn could say as Graeme looked at the group with genuine surprise.

“We meet again…”

He replied in a soft voice, eyes shining with intrigue.

“Hello Annat?”

The uncomfortable yet genuine smile gracing his face was all the reassurance Annat needed to know she had made the right decision in agreeing to his meeting.

“Hi, grandad…”

Her voice weak and soft eyes shining with this new sort of hope, not rooted in the desperation for change, or derived from a revelation. This was the hope of kindling, the spick of interest you feel when hearing about a friend you believed haywire years ago, the chance of new beginnings, not entity destroying the past. 

“How are you doing? You’ve grown up so much, and you look so much more, human…”

He was soft and gentle as he stared at her battered body and wild hair with this adoration, staring at some angelic being. Someone, he assumed dead or at least gone in spirit. But she was there, with a will of steel and the same spark in her eye as the day he left.

“Oh, you know, could be better.”

Annat sounded a lot more chipper than Ancom really thought necessary, as though shed just put up a fake demeanour to please but she’d just met what qi assumed was the only sane member of her family; so this could be genuine joy seeping through the cracks in the paint. She had the right to be happy, although qi worried she may upset the stitching if she wasn’t careful.

“Yes, I can see that,”

His eyes twinkled with good-natured humour as he reevaluated the rather heavily bandaged girl.

“So... How did this happen?”

He inclined his head curiously and this strange almost protective glint in his soothing eyes. Everyone got rather uncomfortable and stared at the bed, getting shy. It was normal really, no one wanted to admit they had left her alone in the middle of a neo-nazi attack, but they hadn’t been thinking clearly. 

Eventually, Ansyn looked up and replied flatly. 

“Neo-Nazi protest, the one that had the 18 dead 46 injured. Yeah, we have one of the injured.”

Ancom wasn’t surprised at the statistics, the image of the dead man still branded into qis mind, an invasive creature that preyed on qim when qi was at qis weakest. Limp lifeless body hunched, crawling into qis vision as qi tried to sleep, barley one-hundred meters away from where his body had been. 

Graeme looked suitably horrified, but the resignation that lined the folds of his brow and the hardening of the corners of his lips was enough indication, he knew what was up with the Nazis.

“So anyway…”

Annat filled the silent space between them, trying to steer the conversation away,

“What have you been getting up to? Like what’s been keeping you busy, all these years?”

She shifted slightly, propping herself up more evenly so she was properly facing all of them, although she winced as she did so, the pain of movement shooting up and down her abdomen.

“Well,” he sighed and smiled lightly, looking off somewhere over her shoulder, “Your brother and I have been living about ten miles out the city-”

“My brother?”

Annat cut off, looked both excited and terrified, as she stared Graeme down, searching for a mistake, or him to backtrack, for any sign of her not hearing him right.

“Yes?” Graeme smiled lightly, forehead creasing slightly as he watched the wild frenzy of emotions shifting behind her eyes, “he’s been living with me since he was… dropped off.”

The soft smile became sadder as his eyes creased at the edges

“He’s been living on the land we got, had a tent up, although he has a room in the house, he claims it just ain’t for him.”

He shook his head lightly,

“Wait- Annat has an out-of-cult brother?”

Ancy asked still seeming to split his attention with some other trail of thought.

“Yeah,” Annat replyed her voice sounding far off, as she starred out for a few moments. Savouring a quiet memory, “his name was- is. Anprim. He wasn’t welcome in the home after… I’m actually not sure, I never got an answer to why he left. He was the same as gramps, there one day and gone the next, and then we could never speak of him again.”

She frowned sadly, staring down at the mattress intensely before realization lit up her face, 

“Grey, do you know why he had to leave? Is he here with you?”

Annat looked excited and nervous and a whole plethora of other emotions, insurmountable yet so perfectly portrayed by the curve of her cheek and the tilt in her head, the shield of hair falling across her face like a curtain.

“Sadly he is not here with me, Anprim isn’t a fan of cars, or any technology at this point, but I do know of one reason for his departure.”

A quick pause passed between him and the group of teenagers, the sense of uncertainty and loss was one all too familiar, so when he sighed slightly and inclined his head they all braced for the worst,

“Anprim was never a great student, as you may remember Annat. He didn’t cair for the life of the everyday worker, never thought he could settle down and get a nine to five, restless spirit. But he also didn’t feel for the way your uncle decided things should be. He never prescribed to the race sciences any more than he did normal science (beyond the biology of course) So when he got into an altercation with your uncle, over something I believe is not my place to say, it was rather easy for him to be labelled, as one would call, a lost cause. So when I have a young boy being dropped at my driveway, by a barley responsive mother, I knew my duty as a grandfather as a father were to be fulfilled one again.”

Anat stared for a few moments at the ground, as the rest of the group sat back or cocked their heads, in thoughts unknown and unknowable to most. 

Annat nodded.

“Always knew I was missing a piece of the puzzle, or something like that, he wouldn’t have just run away, not without me at least.”

“He always wanted to visit you, that was one of the only things he really asked me for, to let me drive him to see you, but I never knew where you lived. The years were hard on him, on all of us.”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

The world’s a fucked up place, but Ancy is pretty sure he can track down the bastard who gave their friend scars. and she may have found her family again. Ancom wondered, as qi usually did, sat next to a rather lost looking Anfem, on the bus, was it worth it? Could lousing the almost stable present, for a possible future be a risk worth taking? And would qi get a choice, would qi stay in this life of maybes and almost forever, or would the changing city force qim to follow?


	10. Knots.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just two people tieing knots and being uncomfortable.
> 
> indirect mentions of suicide...
> 
> also, imma continue to belive that commie is shit at English.  
> and it will not be addressed. :)

So qi tries to carry on, tries to get back to normal, or whatever a stable life might resemble. But as the days pass by, that aim becomes more and more distant, or maybe qi is just getting disillusioned further. Revealing the unattainability of what qi is aiming for.

Normal was a lie, standing on shaky foundations at best, but deep down qi knows it’s crumbling, falling apart as people try to stand on it. And maybe it hadn’t even been there before it supposedly crumbled, a trick of the light, a cruel joke. Power was in nature a liquid thing or was it more like sand?

Ever way, no one could hold it without trickery and deception. lie ing and cheating their way to the top. That’s why those in power were never the ones with the peoples’ interests at heart.

But qi can’t do anything about it. Just try to keep living as an angry feverish city turns on itself, slowly being ripped to shreds, barely concealed by ordinary life, pleasant conversations. But the faceless messenger, one of the words exchanged for a drink or a hot meal often passed through tales of suffering, first hand recounted, the stories are getting darker by the day.

Qi has to survive. There was no other option in the face of so much pain. Nothing else to cling to, just the here and now the past was once and the future had to be better, or it would get so- so much worse.

From qis constant day to day, the blending of it together. Losing track of days and nights, time was meaningless to qim, apart from the only thing qi remembered, the only thing qi mildly looked forward to every day. 

Mornings were shit. Most of the time qi was groggy and tired for a rigid night of vigilant fitful sleep.

But the mornings were the only thing qi could remember now. Because he was always there. Qi had never really noticed Ms Lori opening up the shop, the quick brush of the sidewalk, the lifting of the iron protection on the window, the turning of the sign. But commie wasn’t as easily missed. He was huge for one thing, a wall of muscle and scowls. His eyes cold and calculating his posture rigid and controlled. But he was company. 

Company that expected nothing from Ancom.

Every morning, qi would perform the routine qi usually reserved for later, just so for a few spare minutes the pare could exchange words. This would vary from day to day, always very surface-level niceties, and he never made any effort to properly contribute, preferring to nod or shake his head, as Ancom prattled on for a few minutes about the weather of the water running cold again.

But it didn’t really matter what they said or didn’t say, to each other, all that really mattered was they interacted. That at the end of the day Ancom had done at least one ordinary thing. Even if talking to the terrifyingly buff, kinda pissed looking, nephew of a woman you would more willingly call family then your own flesh and blood was considered normal. 

Anything that wasn’t just working, till qi wanted to pass out, and then working some more was decidedly an achievement. As the city struggled all around qim and the storeys got darker.

Although qi was constantly tired and hadn’t talked to the group proper in days, qi was getting a small collection of money together; although as a soup kitchen worker qi didn’t earn anything propper, qi would often make deals with people who wanted out of their community service, taking a small sum of cash to cover other peoples shifts. Rich kids would do anything to avoid working a day in their lives. Qi supposed hat was good for qim but it still made qim angry sometimes. 

Some days, qi would work dawn till dusk, it was really, REALLY, unhealthy. But at least it was something.

One of the days Ancom caught Commie as he was sweeping the rainbow painted sidewalk, for once the concentrated scowl had relaxed some, as he performed the repetitive task.

“Hey!”

Ancom called out to him as qi struggled to get the white tent to stay still while qi screwed in the polls. It flapped wildly and produced nothing but a nuisance to the workers within, but it was the rules they have a highly visible tent. It wasn’t there fault the government hadn’t replaced their equipment in years, probably a decade.

Commie paused his brushing to look up, the curios expression pulling his face in slightly, producing the return of the scowl, but all he did was tilt his head in a questioning expression. 

“How are you?”

Ancom was still struggling with the knots, having adopted a rather scruffy one because qi never got any formal training. The tent tried desperately to pull away from qis grasp. Not today bitch.

Commie smiled slightly, his stony features morphing into this almost happy glowing look. And he nodded his head slowly. He then returned the question tilting his head sideways and quickly nodding towards Ancom like he was returning a tennis ball.

“Yeah,” Ancom replied airily, still desperately struggling with the ropes and the polls, they didn’t want to work with qim today. “I’m doing just fine, apart from these. Dumb. Polls.”

Ancom sighed exasperated, as qi got so close to getting it all together and then they just burst out once more. Stupid cheap-skate government. The tent was disintegrating beneath qis hands.

Commie stared at qim for a few long moments, observing qim with the same calculating almost judgmental eye. One that had seen the merits and weaknesses of thousands of men, so well trained and honed. But it softened slightly, seeing the smaller’s struggle.

“I help?”

He asked so softly, qi would’ve missed it if the tent had whip cracked in the winds. But the offer was there and he was bigger than qim. He would probably have less of a hassle with the uncooperative tent, so with a slight sigh of resignation qi stepped back and smiled a weak apologetically, the corners of qis eyes crinkling delicately.

Commie returned the smile with his own slightly intimidating expression. It was as if someone had taken a normal smile and morphed it, made it sag, made it uneven and shaky. He was a towering force one that when reckoned with would most probably case some form of devastating damage. 

But now he was reaching around Ancom, steady hands pulling the tent flaps together, the fixed expression of concentration enthralling to the anarchist for milliseconds. He was in his element, the way he had been with the book in the shop. Nothing between him and his objective, it was his target and he would compleat it.

Ancom realised he was waiting for qim to tie the knot. With some effort, so as not to press up against the other, qi looped the knot in the familiar insane varied twirl, no real rhyme or reason to it, just a pattern to keep things in place.

As qi pulled away, however, Commie had this rather unnerving expression, as if he had just been witness to a rotting animal corpse, or been forced to listen to a disgusting story form a friend. Ancom was confused as the expression fell on qim. 

Had qi done something wrong? Had qi invaded his personal space? Could he now hate qim? The worried thoughts ran through qis head like the thundering hooves of an upcoming stampede.

“What?”

Ancom turned slightly, subtly presenting a smaller target for the much lager individual to hit. Qi had taken many the beating in qis life, dealt with far worse too. But that never meant qi didn’t want to avoid pain. But commie didn’t seem intent on harming qim, instead, he looked back at the scruffy Knott qi had just tied with the wrinkled nose and furrowed brow.

“You tie knot.” he squinted slightly, a perplexed borderline disgusted expression still filling every crevice of his face “like THAT?” he emphasised the word, his eyes reflecting an almost warlike internal battle. His brows were still furrowed as he inspected the knot.

“Well, I never learned how to tie a real one did I?”

Qi retorted only slightly offended, really qi completely understood, qi was shit at tieing knots and if qi actually knew how to tie them, qi would’ve probably judged qimself. But whatcha gonna do? 

Commie frowned at qis reply, seeming to mull it over for a few moments,

“I will teach.”

He finally said, eyes returning to Ancom with this determined expression. Internally qi both laughed and felt a deep pang of apprehension. Commie was nice, but he was a bit imposing, often making it rather difficult to interact. It wasn’t his fault, he was just scary.

Externally qi responded with a 

“You know I’ve been out of school for a while right? I was never really the best student.”

Qi trailed off looking at the ground for a few moments before returning qis eyes to Commie who just looked back at qim, same determined expression

“Can’t let you tie bad knots. Best know how to, no matter how long it take...s”

He added the ‘s’ with some thumbing. His eyes flashing before he returned to the reserved expression and the, almost but not quite normal, smile returning. 

“We will talk later. See you then Ancom.”

And Ancom watched as he turned back to his shop, the iron grate up from the window the sidewalk mostly brushed of debris. Qi was gonna be taught to tie knots by the big scary Russian kid. That was gonna be fun. Interesting for both of them for sure. Or terrifying.  
______________________________________________________________

The day was repetitive, beyond the morning interaction. Ancom pushed it to the back of qis mind. The soup was shared, faces were recognised, few words were exchanged. Life was as it always was, a droning on and on. Into a distance that may never really be reached. But at least Ancom was working at something.

It was one of the days, getting rarer by the shift, Ancom got a break. Letting a small rather tense-looking girl take over, qi went to the ally that qis small amount of valuable items were expertly hidden. The vent utilised a key that Ancom had obtained a while back, from performing some less than savoury people a few favours, but living to survive was the only way qi had lived for a while so it didn’t matter much.

The space wasn’t big enough to stow anything of real use, but it did contain a small pile of keepsakes, the bulk of qis money, and more importantly, it had a few of Ancom’s last cigarettes.

By no means was Ancom a smoker Ancom detested the stench of cigarette ash, it reminded qim of other times, but qi was tired and a cigarette was similar to a sharp jolt, or at least that’s how qi perceived it. They were like a cup of coffee, not as nice mind-you, but cheaper.

So using the small portable lighter qi kept tucked away in qis pocket. Qi settled down for the two or so hour break.

About fifteen minutes in, when the small clouds of smoke produced by the tiny harbinger of lung cancer had all but dissipated, but the disgusting stench still lingered. 

Qi sat, eyes half-closed back to the vent. It was a rather risky thing sitting closed eyes, but qi looked the part of a homeless bum -qi was a homeless bum-. So no mugger worth their cent would come near qim and most of the muggers were actually on good terms with the anarchist, so it was meant to be no worry qi reassured qimself. 

So when the presence of another human being invaded qis scenes, the confusion was sharp. Looking up, but not daring to move, qi saw nothing but legs. And a trench coat.

“Commie?”

Ancom looked up slowly, to see the uncertain expression on Commie’s face. He held a small real of rope in his hands and a weird plastic poll (probably used for gardening) in the other.

“Yes?”

Still uncomfortable, his body shifting as though considering bolting.

“What’s up?”

Qi asked, looking at the man with a concerned expression.

“Umm… I go- if you want. But, I thought...” he held the rope up slightly, and the small poll, “I thought- maybe… we could tie knot?”

He was really uncomfortable now, 

“If you want.. I won’t make you do anything. ‘Tis your break. I would not wish to break in your time.”

He was hurried in his words, Ancom was surprised, more than anything, qi had never heard the other say more than a few words at a time, and here he was busting out entire sentences. But it became clear, the other mistook the silence for something other than shock, maybe anger? Or something like distaste? 

Qi couldn’t tell. But Commie was already backing away, as though preparing to run

“No-no.”

Ancom called, not entirely sure where the level controlled voice came from, qi was usually a wreck when startled into talking after a prolonged period of silence.

At that Commie seemed to perk up slightly, the uncertainty still clear on his face, but at least now it was a little more comfortable.

“You want tie knots?”

He asked with a hopeful tilt to his tone. Qi thought it endearing.

“Yeah, sure. Nothing better to do in my free time.”

Qi returned already sitting up slightly, from where qi had been slouched against the wall.

With that Commie dropped down, crossing his legs and leaning forward. He was rather out of place in the alleyway, his hulking frame and imposing presence in opposition with the familiarity of the ally. 

But somehow everything still fits in rather nicely. He smiled once more at Ancom, lifting out the rope and the stick. Laying the latter on the floor. His smile was warm and almost exited, as he stretched the rope out in front of them both.

The way he showed Ancom, as he would first say the name of the knot then tie the knot quickly, just to demonstrate the end product, showing Ancom, he’d then undo the knot and show Ancom how to tie it step by step.

He would also say uses for the knot like the cow hitch was supposed to keep two things together. Or the figure-eight knot was a replacement stopper knot.

They went like this, one at a time. Soft words of encouragement and explanation were given by Commie, while Ancom worked. That was until the seventh or so knot. The noose.

It was used mostly for pulley works and other high labour jobs. Or for the securing of polls.

Ancom could tie it for other reasons,

“Yeah, no need for a demo. I can do that one.”

The nonchalance was rather concerning to the larger it seemed, as he lent in with furrowed brows.

“You know how to tie the noose?”  
“Well yeah, most of us street kids do. Its always kinda...”

Ancom was uncomfortable under the gaze of the other. The eyes so clear yet fogged by something more, like the ancient man on the sidewalk, trading storeys for a hot meal, so fogged by his history, words were barely enough to convey everything he wanted to. But they also sparkled, like the bright-eyed volunteer who never ran out of energy no matter how many times they may be shot down. The eyes of one who must see the world for what it was.

But he was still, somehow, terrifying. Sat, in the middle of an alleyway, hunched, so similar to every other kid qi knew. But he looked intimidating. Even in the familiar lights, with a frayed rope in his hands and the obvious marks of dirt on his hands.

“That is… interesting.”

He sounded uncertain, 

“Yeah…”

The silence hung. For moments that dragged longer than time itself. Maybe it had all stopped, and they were suspended in this awkward in-between.

“One more?”

Commie asked uncertainly, eyes fixed somewhere slightly off from qis face, over qis left shoulder. But it was clear he wanted to move on. Clear he understood more or less of what Ancom was trying not to say.

“Yeah... sure.”

And Ancom was reminded, they were still sorta strangers, sat in an ally, to get something accomplished, qi was being taught. Commie was teaching qim. Nothing more. Not friends, not enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've spelt Company wrong, I can just feel it. but I have no frigging clue what I've down wrong.  
> plz help
> 
> and why is knot spelt with a k? like honestly English, you ain't making this any easier.
> 
> also like this was the last of my weird second backlog. so it'll be a while till the next drop of chapters...


	11. Just a chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's just a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was meant to post this yesterday, got it all halfway and then anxiety got me. so I'm posting it today.

It was only a day later that a rather disgruntled looking Ansyn showed up at the shop. Ancom was about to shut up early, the street crew finally rolling in to clear the blood from the sidewalk. Preventing the homeless from getting to the spot made it rather pointless to keep up, and it wasn’t like anyone was going to stop qim, qi was basically the only person ever working there.

He didn’t say much, just showed up at the door. Hair a mess and face disgruntled, groggy from sleep. Out of them all, Ansyn was the nocturnal creature; usually taking night watch and other jobs performed in the darkness and reassurance of the moon. He thrived off the shadows, loved to descend into them, to pop out at four in the morning just to have a good old yelling match with a Karan about how the barista owed her nothing, it was her own fault for being up this early and they have no obligation to server her if she’s being a bitch.

Ancom was unsure how qi got dragged across the city in a matter of about ten minutes, they walked along a few rooftops and ducked around dark dingy allies. By the end of their walk, the only words that were exchanged were a few grunted warnings from Ansyn and an exasperated Ancom’s comments on needing an explanation to the shit they all pulled. Qi didn’t care as much as qi claimed however, as none of them would willingly lead another into danger -without reason-.

They made their way to a rather imposing building (or, really, an apartment block), each of the front-facing room’s windows was barred up by dark grey iron, some of which was rusting, the front entrance engraved black stone. And climbing one of the side fire escapes, the stares shaking and the bar rail-less than stable, Ancom had no idea why anyone would willingly approach them, let alone climb the stairs.

Once they made it up about halfway, they found Ancy sat on the ground picking at the floor between his legs, on their arrival he looked up, an expression of excitement twinkling within his eyes, making him vibrate with energy.

“Ah! You’re here, I can begin!”

“Yeah… I got ‘im, now what is this oh-so-important thing you needed to tell us? I’m a busy man, I need sleep, at least once in a while”

Ansyn wasn’t particularly angry, he sounded tired and slightly frustrated. Ancy was sat on the side of the rusty fire escape, legs now dangling over the edge, he smiled jovially at the pair as they made it up the final flight of stairs. Not hearing, or pretending not to hear, the comment.

“So, I bet you’re wondering why I brought you here?”

He was chipper as always but there was this glint in his big bright ‘innocent’ eyes. He had something malicious planned, and Ancom was already ready to hear the twisted scheme this tiny mind could concoct.

“Well, I have a guess!”

Anfem’s head popped up from around the steps, having previously been immersed in shadows. Ancom was the only one to react so it was clear Ansyn already knew of her presence.

“Well, I would expect YOU to know, so hush. I want my big reveal!”

Ancy giggled happily, but it almost felt threatening, the twinkle in his tone, to airy and light to be anything but evil.

“So.” 

He cut back to business, his voice clipped, so he was drawn up and tight. Ancom remembered why qi respected the youngest so much, for the amount he was bubbly energy and oblivious positivity. He was smart, scary smart, he knew how to play the games of the law, knew how to fight back, behind the curtain that was considered society. He excelled in the cryptic, in the mundane in the cogs of the machine.

“I found him.”

The dark relaxed expression enveloping his face, his muscled and demeanour completely at ease as he smugly smiled, teeth stretching out into a shark-like grin.

“Found who?”

Ansyn asked agitatedly, still tired and slightly slow to catch up, as he stared at the other with a crumpled expression.

“The skinhead, swastica tattoo, with the cornflower around it.”

And they all froze for a few moments, taking in the new information. Before smiles cracked across their faces, grins growing like the ravens etched in stone. 

“So… Where?”

Ancom asked after a few moments passed, letting the achievement sink in. qi was still smiling at the youngest like an insane asylum patent, at the first good meal they’d had in years.

“About thirty minutes out, he works at a MacDonalds.”

He looked at qim with this steely expression

“But like… how did you find him?”

Anfem asked, looking at him through the tops of her eyes as she rocked back on her hands, hair that was tied up in a loose ponytail dangling out over the edge, suspended down a sheer drop.

“My talents are useful in many different utilisations.”

He replied cryptically, smiling slyly at her.

“So basically,” Ansyn looked at the younger through squinted eyes, all the sleepy grouchiness of earlier erased, “We gonna get a bus in, around 20 minutes, to go bash in this bastards skull.”

He was smiling, like a maniac as he talked in this precise self-assured tone.

“Maybe not today…”

Anfem began before Ancy cut her off.

“Monday. The bus drops off next to the shopping centre he works at. Gives us a forty-minute window, to go round back and do what we do best. Then another bus is up and we can go on to-”

“Pick up Annat!”

Anfem finished his sentence with an excited squeal, leaning back dangerously over the drop. Ancom felt a sudden twinge of anxiety. But it was almost immediately crushed by the overcoming excitement. They were going to beat this bastard to a pulp and then get their friend.

The insane smile on Ansyn’s face had been momentarily crushed by the realism of the other two but quickly returned with the chance of destroying the bastard fascist that had done that to his friend.

“So meet back Monday, as planned, but bring a change of clothes, concealed weapons and masks. And possibly bring something to clean up with...”

Ancy smiled that silver smirk once more and they all nodded. The fucking bastard wouldn’t know what hit him.  
______________________________________________________________  
Ancom knew Ms Lori wanted to meet Annat in the hospital, but qi had never really registered, she had come around after the meeting to see how Annat had reacted to her request (and to just see how she was doing), qi had said she was cool with it and off she went, back to the shop. 

Ancom hadn’t thought anything more of it, but qi had been going through qis stuff while looking for qis favourite bandanna and had found the old needle and thread qi had borrowed from Ms Lori a few weeks ago to try (in vain) sowing the tent back together. 

So, qi decided returning them would be the task completed in the small amount of time qi had left within the day. The kitchen had been brought down and packed away, and the sun had dipped so low, it barely illuminated the dingy street.

Ancom made qis way across the road with the needles and thread wrapped in the small piece of cloth qi had received them in.

The shop was barely visible from the outside, cast in shadow, the windows so blocked out by plants no interior lights shone out. But that never stopped qim before as qi walked through the doors to the familiar creek of the old frame and tinkle of the silver bell.

The only person in the shop was Minarchist, which was unusual as typically Ms Lori would be working this time, but as Ancom came into his line of vision Minarchist, who had previously been tending to an assortment of flowers, brightly smiled and walked over from the arrangement.

“Hey, Ancom!”

He sounded excited, as though it wasn’t later in the evening and he didn’t feel like death. He waved with his right hand, the left one still clasped on the watering can.

“Hey, dude.”

Ancom returned the gesture, qis smile a little looser as qi walked deeper into the small shop.

“What’s up?”

Minarchist smiled bobbing on the balls of his feet as he put down the watering can on one of the only clear surfaces.

“Just wanted to return Ms Loris’ needle and thread.”

Ancom held the small pouch so that Minarchist could see.

“Oh! I was wondering where those went!”

Qi nodded and smiled apologetically, handing the pouch over.

“Yeah… sorry, I kept them so long… kinda just found them…”

Ancom replied awkwardly. Shuffling on the spot as Minarchist went behind the counter to return the pouch.

“Its no trouble, Ms Lori always has spares!”

He was still so goddam happy, Ancom couldn’t help but smile. He lived in this shit hole of a city, worked even though his parents were big bag money-mad and he had the worst relationships in the universe but he still, somehow, maintained this happy chipper demeanour.

Ancom nodded, before turning to leave. The smallest squeak of anxious desperation made qim turn around in a millisecond, staring at Minarchist perplexedly

“Please stay.”

The way he asked it was more than a request, his smile drawn out and eyes slightly enlargened. Ancom immediately agreed and searched around for a chair, all sleepiness or evening grouchiness evaporated from qis being. Minarchist wasn’t usually like this, he was upfront and honest, but something was wrong.

Once qi had pulled up a stool, uneven on one leg so it wobbled as qi shifted qis weight on it, qi asked

“So… what up?”

not looking directly, inspecting one of the beautiful floral arrangements, out of the corner of qis eye studying Minarchist. At qis question, he sagged slightly shoulders and demeanour sapping some of the chipper energy out of him.

“Would you like some tea?”

He asked after taking a deep sigh, he would talk about it when he was ready, qi understood it didn’t always come easy. Shit took time, and qi had most of the night if it took that, although qi was getting the bus in the morning.

“Yeah sure. Do you have like… non-dairy milk? otherwise, I’ll just have it without.”

On the streets, you ate what you got, but that didn’t mean Ancom wouldn’t avoid animal products at every chance qi got, survival came before all else but principles would be stuck to best qi could.

“Yeah, we have soy, that alright?”

He asked as he walked over to the teapot-table, it was propped up on a stool, and just behind it, hidden by more plants was a minny fridge, on the inside two cartons of milk sat.

“That’s cool.”

Ancom lent back slightly the chair moving with qim. Returning to inspecting the flowers,

Silence settled for a few moments. As Minarchist pulled two chipped mugs out and prepared the tea bags and whatnot (the tea bags were organic and did not contain plastics) it was almost content. But not one to let the silence hang Ancom asked

“So like… where’s Ms Lori, or Commie?”

Minarchist glanced over before returning his attention.

“Not sure where Commie is, but Ms Lori went to visit Annat, she’s getting out Monday so like…. You probably already knew that.”

He was slightly disorganised in his thoughts, as the kettle dinged the high-pitched tone, telling him it was ready. Pouring the hot water in and sterling the two cups nether had sugar, the pot was empty and Ancom didn’t like it anyway.

“So, like, you got phoned in to cover the shift?”

Anco asked watching as the tea bags were removed and put in the small bin, ready for the composter,

“Yeah… but it was a welcome distraction.”

He carried the two mugs over, smiling softly down at his feet as he navigated trying not to spill the hot drinks although he had lost his previous excitement he was still chipper enough to smile.

“How so?”

Ancom asked, accepting the mug and putting it on the counter. Minarchist returned to the other side of the counter, leaning against the side with a soft sigh.

“Well… dad for one thing.”

Ancom never really understood the others home life. They never talked enough about family to get that deep, but from what qi hired in passing and what qi saw, it wasn’t the happy nuclear family propped up by the media.

“He bumming you out? need me to go stick a few buddies on him? Scratch up a car? eggs?”

The attempt of humour was only slightly apparent, Ancom may have been serious, qi couldn’t really tell qimself. But Minarchist still smiled and shook his head, all be it sadly. 

“Na… don’t bother… it’s not just him anyway-”

“If this is about the X I can and will willingly murder that bastard-”

“No!”

Minarchist cut qim off, 

“No. it’s ok, not the X. Don’t worry… Jeez.”

He smiled anxiously, breathing out shallowly as he stumbles out over the top of Ancom’s rather passionate speech

“Not them. They haven’t seen me since- it’s- it’s the new guy… he’s been acting sorta, off. Like more off than normal.”

Ancom frowned at the other, eyes narrowing

“Is this the guy me and Ms Lori are gonna meet? ooOOooo! I wanna hear all the juicy details!”

It was qis talent, flapping from one end of the extra™ spectrum to the other. Qi fulfilled gay stereotype with surprising grace for a nonbinary trainwreck. Drawing a small smile from the other as qi flung out qis arms in an over the top gesture, practically throwing qimself at the counter to lean against it, smiling collisionally.

“Grate.”

Minarchist smiled at the antics of the other, taking a small sip of the tea before beginning.

“So I know him through Ancap.”

He began before seeing qis expression sour slightly and hurrying on before qi could interrupt

“It’s not that bad, he isn’t a statist this time! Just- he’s interesting…”

Ancom raised an eyebrow at that, from what qi could gather Minarchist definition of ‘interesting’ was more on the side of problematic.

“So what’s he done?”

Qi asked leaning in. 

“Well.. not so much ‘done’ more so… not done? Said? Not said?”

He winced slightly before looking away.

“I really like him, and I think he likes me. But he’s just... one of those…”

He searched around for the next words eyes roaming over the flowers, that spilt out from every wall, permeating the air with this beautiful aroma.

“He’s gay and homophobic.”

He said bluntly. Looking at qim, waiting for qim to laugh. frown? Anything? But all Ancom did, was drawback up onto the stool, a contemplative look on qis face.

“Gay and homophobic. Think I’ve met a few of ‘em. Heavy baggage really. So like how has he been acting ‘strange’ for you, or is that the strange? Cuz if so we can set him... gay?”

Ancom brought qis fingers up to perform air quotes, entirely brushing over the rather confused Minarchist,

Quickly catching up, however, Minarchist chuckled darkly. 

“He’s been acting strangely in the scene he’s been a whole lot more distant, like leaving me on reading or just kinda ignoring me when we all get together, but then also like… sometimes… when we do meet… alone… he sometimes...”

He stared at the wood, eyes glazed. Nothing could encroach on his thoughts, or at least nothing should. But Ancom wasn’t one for rules at the best of times.

“Whatch thinking there?”

Ancom leant in once more. Qi should be getting seasick from the constant rocking, 

“He almost kissed me… last night... we met up as a group. He almost kissed me, and then we were... interrupted. And he just pretended it didn’t happen? He ignored me for the rest of the night. It was…”

Ancom watched as his expressions shifted, over and over, a storm of emotions qi couldn’t even begin to unpack sailed their way across the usually warm smiling face.

Suddenly he winced, putting his mug down hard and raising his hands to his head, hissing in a sharp intake of breath, for a moment they were suspended in shock and pain. But the moment passed and he released the breath lowering his hands.

“What just?”

Ancom frowned at the other. As he slumped forward slightly

“Headpains.”

Was all he responded with. Picking up the mug and sipping another bit of the warm drink.

“All the fucKING time.”

It was one of those rare occasions Ancom heard him cuss, it was weird, he was like the sweetest angel, to the point Ancom would forget where he was, what this kid must be made of. He was a sweet ray of sunshine, but the son of a brutal businessman who owned much of the main housing market, best friends with a psychopath who venerated the concept of feudalism and had dated some of the vilest men qi had ever had the misfortune of meeting. 

“You should drink more, or sleep more, or maybe louse the stress?”

Ancom shrugged, looking at him with concern,

“Don’t want you getting ill or anything like that.”

Again Minarchist just took a long sip of the drink, he was already about a third down, while Ancom had barely skimmed the surface of qis drink.

“I eat enough, no thanks and how can I possibly do that?”

Minarchist responded easily, his expression sceptical one eyebrow raised before flipping back to the normal anxious bouncy bubbly person and asked

“Now, where was I?”

Ancom took a moment to catch up but answered quickly enough

“Guy almost kissed ya, then ignored you.”

Ancom prompted, rocking back once more in the chair. it was sort of fun, and the stool made no sound, so it was just entertainment, instead of a distraction. But qi now worried it may topple over if qi wasn’t careful.

“Yeah… it’s just weird I guess… nothing really big time… I shouldn’t be this invested. He probably hates me for making him feel this way…”

He looked at qim, in that second pure fear filling his eyes, like the flood gates had been opened within his mind and tried desperately to drown him.

“Oh my God! He probably does hate me! Oh, I’m such an IDIOT!.”

He sagged down from where he leant against his own arms, letting him press his face into the wood.

“What am I going to do Ancom?”

Ancom couldn’t do much but stair as the other lamented into the wood. He was hidden from direct view, but Ancom could hear the distinct wheezing of a person desperately pressing down tears. When you flipped from one end of the spectrum to the other, everything seemed to hold still, for a few moments. Minarchist was lost to his self-doubt and fear, the bright smile the happy feelings, all brushed away like sand peeling away from a beech, layer by layer, till only stone remained. No sand to cover up the jagged rocks.

“Ok. it’s- it’s well not fine. But we can work through this!”

Ancom hurriedly covered as the other shrunk further within himself at qis first words.

“If he tried kissing you, well, he sure as hell doesn’t hate you. He’s probably just…”

Ancom paused watching as the other’s chest rose and fell, uneven breaths drawing in and out.

“Ok… he’s probably got a lot of feelings going on. If he’s a gay and homophobic type, there’s probably a lot of strings attached… take it one step at a time. He doesn’t hate you. No one can honestly hate you.”

Ancom watched as the moments ticked by, qis rambling voice filling the shop and permeating every nook and cranny, drowning out the panicky breathing of the other.

Don’t overthink this shit.

Moments turned into minutes the pair sat in their weird electrified silence. On the border of comforting but still setting qim ablaze with anxiety. Shared anxiety. They sipped the steaming tea. 

It was agony to Ancom to remain silent, the seconds weighing on qim, but not speaking was the only chores of action left available. It was better than trying to force it out of him. And he looked so small all curled up, qi would hurt him if qi even touched him, like a delicate glass lily, so meticulously crafted so easily shattered.

Slowly Minarchist sat up, facing his uncertain gaze once more upon the other.

“Yeah… I guess that makes scene…”

His voice was so small, the slight stains of tears illuminating the corners of his eyes.

“Sorry for getting like… that.”

He sounded uncomfortable, embarrassing even, for feeling emotions, for showing emotion. Ancom knew most kids did, they felt guilty for being emotional for being human, once upon a time qi would’ve also apologized for crying, maybe still would. But looking at the boy who had faced such shitty times a resole was formed within qim,

“It’s completely ok. Feeling emotional is a fact of life and if you ever. EVER need a shoulder to cry on. I am always willing to be here for you.”

Minarchist smiled a soft small yet elated smile. One that could melt hearts and cure any conflict. One of unfiltered trust and respect, respect qi shared.

“Thanks…”

He replied voice still soft and sweet. Trembling slightly as he cast his gaze down once more.

“No issues.”

Ancom lent back on qis stool once more when the slight chime of the bell at the door notified the pare of another person present. 

Turing around Ancom saw the imposing figure of Commie. Red coat and sharp gaze. He held a rather large folder in his right hand and pressed under his arm was a book.

He nodded towards Minarchist ever so slightly, before turning his calculating gaze on Ancom, cocking a brow curiously.

“Oh, yeah. That’s where Tankie was!”

Minarchist perked up immediately, the quiet soft sadness that had just been counting his words, evaporated. Replaced by a chipper happy tone, Ancom now knew was (at least partly) forced. But he was a dam good liar.

“You forgot where I went?”

He sounded curious as he shut the small door behind him with a soft chime before moving the book to his free hand. Ancom could barely see the front cover, but a word in Russian was written above something in English.

Commie walked over blank expression, apart from the glimmer of curiosity etched into the slight crevices around his face, most of his other feelings were shrouded in this misty fog.

“Yeah.. guess I did. Well, learn anything new?”

He shuffled his weight around so he was facing the tallest head-on. Eyes lit with soft interest. Ancom cocked qis head intrigued by what the other two were talking about.

“Yes. I learned..”

Commie frowned for a few moments staring at the book in hand tracing its spine with narrowed eyes

“I learned I am not amazing at culture.”

He finally said. Looking back up at Minarchist with an unreadable expression, it looked sharp, cold.

A moment passed, before Minarchist nodded, understanding written across his whole face

“Yeah, its a bit different here isn’t it? Like, no one really knows whats going on. It’s all just part of a game I guess. What did you find difficult exactly? If you don’t mind me asking”

He looked at the other with understanding and kindness, earnestly imprinted into his two-tone eyes. He wanted to help. Min always did.

Commie took a few moments to compute the request face blank and body stiff, staring at the other with sceptical scrutiny, looking for the mockery. He found no such giveaway, so frowning and turning his frame slightly to the side he put the folder and book on the table, and proceed to grab an old stool, (meant for standing on) and settled with the flowers, he was the closest to the ground and was curling back into the flowers, but he didn’t seem bothered.

“где, черт возьми, мне начать?”

He paused for a few moments before saying

“Etiquette is idiotic. And why is religion so… like that? and- and … sexuality.”

His voice was deeply entrenched in this uncertainty although the cold angriness reminds prevalent. The last part though was mumbled out a little more uncertainly, the word seeming difficult to come out.

“It’s cool you don’t get it. No one does really. We all trying so hard to survive, we live these norms just because they’re familiar. It’s cool if they feel alien to you. They can feel alien to us as well. Etiquette can be ignored most times, apart from this some people. and like religion. It’s just a struggle to get around when you don’t believe it, respect others and they’ll respect you, or at least in what our society is supposed to look like that’d be true.”

He brushed his bangs out of his eyes smiling this open relaxed soft smile. The carefully worded response coming so easily. Commie nodded simply, still with that blank emotionless expression, although Ancom could almost sense the ghost of a smile crease the dark baggs around his eyes.

“Yes. for productive society, people must be able to live.”

He still seemed… off, as he sits within the grips of the plants, the want for something other than him to fill the space rolled off of him, an uncomfortable aura permeating the space around him, though nothing exactly jumps out as abnormal. Ancom sensing the need for a change of topic and rocked back on the stool once more.

“So... can I get the name of this mysterious boy? Even if he’s a lost course, I’d at least like to know~”

Ancom smile cheeky but all Minarchist did was sigh slightly, the break down from earlier still slightly noticeable, the corners of his eyes looked like morning dew was just being melted away by the sun.

his eyes flicking momentarily over to Commie apprehensively. But the guy just sat a cold calculating expression.

“I- don’t know…”

He let the words out carefully, dripping from his tongue like the apprehensive petals of early spring flowers, on the cusp of blooming in their vibrant glory but still fearful of the frost.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Ancom asked brazenly, kicking back on the stool and throwing qis arms to the sky.

“A lot.”

Minarchist responded bluntly. Looking at the anarchist with a raised brow. 

“Do you EVER consider the consequence of what you do and say?”

He asked exasperation lasing his tone bringing his voice up slightly. It wasn’t that he was upset however when he was upset hed act different, he was more exasperated, confused by the other’s confidence in the face of it all.

To qis credit, Ancom never understood him either -or any of the capitalists really- but Minarchist was always the one that qi found really confusing. He believed in free markets, and people doing what they wanted, without the state’s fuck ugly nose getting in of everyone’s business. But he still wanted a state, one that fixed the problems when they got aggressive. He's also facing his own shit, and although he was courteous he wasn’t jaded, Ancom had face pain, and when it came to the soft spots qi was way more anxious. 

Minarchist just jumped into situations that drew terrible memories of the past, he never shied away from love, even when he had been bitten so many times before, Ancom went at the future with no past but shied away from the past like it was a beast chasing and ready to devour qim. Both were overly courteous and not courteous enough.

“I consider the consequence…”

Ancom answered, biting qis lip, it wasn’t that qi didn’t consider the consequence. It was more qi would call out bullshit when qi saw it. Qi was shit at keeping quiet at the best of times.

“Bitch, do you?”

Now Minarchist was grinning at Ancom, leaning on the counter

“Tell me a time you did?”

Ancom looked at him with slight dismay, then looking to Commie for some sort of support, but he was looking at qim with a cocked head nothing disclosed in his expression accept slight curiosity.

“Umm… that time with Ansyn, we, like, didn’t destroy the shop’s display, cuz there were cameras… we came back later with masks and spray paint!”

Ancom smiled, fond memories of chaos they caused, it was more difficult now, because they both worked and had entirely separate sleep schedules, but they tried still now and again.

“Ok… I’ll sorta concede with that. But you shouldn’t destroy private property.”

He waved his hand off, as though dismissing the previous line of thought.

“So do I get the guys name?”

Ancom asked half teasingly, as qi rocked forwards and back on the stool. Brazenly disregarding the laws of gravity now, and the fear of falling.

“His name… ok. Just the first name, nothing Ancy can track, I hope.”

He replied looking thoughtfully into the counter.

“I’m not giving them the name till I’ve met the guy. I need to know his chill levels, before proceeding.”

Minarchist sighed, looking over at Commie. Ancom followed his gaze. Commie was sat on the stool, braiding some loose flowers together into a delicate chain, the concentration on his face focused as he worked the tiny stems in and out he was focused and calm, steady fingers working them together. 

“His names Hoppean, he’s a bit weird, very sleep-deprived, we stayed up till seven am once, slept the whole day. Never of us talked about it again. He likes his coffee milky, like to an extraordinary degree, and if you can put alcohol in him he gets really intense.”

Minarchist paused still watching Commie painstakingly work, tiny white blue and yellow flowers, into this meticulous crown.

“He’s just something I guess. He’s no perfect angle and neither am I. He’s sweet, once you get to know him…”

Minarchist continued to watch Commie, Ancom also now focusing in on the guy, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth pressed close to his lip, they were rather beaten by what must’ve been stress, of the cold.

“He sounds weird. But if you like him you like him.”

Ancom responded easily. Ripping qis gaze away from the working person to the other, with some effort.

Qi rocked back on the stool once more and that is when qi fell.

It wasn’t a long drop down to the ground, but qi never even got that far, as if the powers of every superhero speedster shot through him, Commie darted out, catching the other in his outstretched arms and stopping qim from hitting the ground or any of the plants.

The stool clatter to the earth with a thunk.

“HOLY SHI-”

Minarchist, hurried around the counter, staring at the pare with large eyes.

“What just happened?”

Voicing the question qi had filling up qis mind, seemed to elevate some of the sudden confusion.

“Yo...”

Ancom said blandly, held in Commies’ arms like a sack of potatoes, the other stared at qim with the same amount of confusion, forehead carved by deep lines as he found down at Ancom.

“Привет”

“I have no idea what you just said… could ya put me down?”

Ancom responded, smiling this uncertain confused expression, qis brows knitting together and arms feeling deeply uncomfortable, pressed in on qimself. Qi was way to close to the other for any sort of comfort. The only interactions having been a brief chat in the ally, filling qis mince with so may questions

“извините, дерьмо!”

Commie responded, lowering the anarchist to the floor, not willing to drop qim as qi expected.

The moment qi was on qis own two feet he backed off, quickly retreating to the stool, staring at the floor with this weird frown, eyes larger then they had been earlier and shoulders pulled up and in.

“I am sorry. I know personal space is… just reacted.”

Ancom did nothing but smile, briefly brushing qimself off, the crumpled and crest clothing remained as ever, the almost non-existent floor dirt would be right at home.

“It’s no problem, honestly you just saved my neck. That would’ve been a nasty landing!”

Qi laughed airly, although the shot of adrenaline still shot through qis bloodstream, hyping qim up to a thousand.

“But like where did you learn to move that quick?”

Qi asked hoisting the stool back up, and carefully sitting once more, he had moved faster than qi though possible for someone as large as him, lanching across the room like a bullet train. Minarchist stared at qim with a worried eye.

“Oh… pick things up… over years. I just- fast reactions.”

He replied, his eyes not quite meeting qis.

“Well, it’s really cool!”

Ancom responded, careful not to rock on the stool anymore. As qi returned qis expression to Minarchist, who had retreated back around the counter, after making double sure neither were hurt.

“Well, that was… fun.”

Qi glanced at Commie, to see how he reacted, he stiffens slightly but just continued to keep his expression blank, bar the sling creased brow. Minarchist sighted. Once more fixing qim with an exasperated expression. He then looked at Commie and asked

“So like… what are you making with the flowers Commie?”

“Oh. да. I learned to make flower crowns from the book given to me, at the back is the patterns, наверное уже знал что... you want it?”

He reached out, the tiny crown of flowers quivering slightly in the pale light. The details and the weaving were exquisite. Ancom was amazed at the sheer delicacy of the design, this huge terrifying guy could make something so small and sweet.

“It is not my best. But hope it fits.”

He nodded tentatively as Minarchict took the crown with some delicacy. He inspected it, not judgment he just looked curious.

“This looks fabulous!”

He said, looking up at Commie who reminds staring at him with a slightly bowed head, 

“Yeah!”

Ancom chimed in, looking at the guy with newfound respect,

“Where did you say you learned to make them?”

Ancom cocked qis head curiously. 

“Lori gave me book on plant keeping, at back, there were patterns for things like that.”

He looked at qim with an uncertain smile on his face. He was cute, in a strange teddy bear that could rip your head off kinda way. Minarchist chuckled as he slipped the crown on, looking at the two with his heterochromatic eyes, both sparkling slightly.

Ancom raised an eyebrow but he didn’t elaborate on the meaning behind the laugh, and Ancom preferred not to impeach on that almost evil smile curling at the tips of his face.

“Its sorta getting late… and I think you have company now?”

Ancom nodded towards Commie, before getting up off the stool,

“Thank you ever so much for the save earlier,” 

Minarchist waved from behind the counter, beaming the sunshine essence smile.

“No issues, and I can’t wait to meet this Hoppean fellow!” 

Ancom responded, an evil smirk on qis face, qi returned the half-wave and with a short stroll qi was at the door, and opening it onto a warm evening street, the songs of the other two wishing qim well as qi took qis leave.

Qi knew qi’d have to be up and ready tomorrow for a throw down, so with a slightly cattish smile, qi went off to take what qi hoped would be an early night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got this and the next chapter finished but like my anxiety been through the roof lastly, so I've basically been staring at them wondering if I should post. I know its dum but its life and I've gotta deal. :) no one really cares realistically. I'm just paranoid.


	12. Anprim, Oh and some other bullshit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meet Anprim, ya know. a fucking disaster, also more family bonding -sorta-   
> idk, this took way to long to edit and I am so sorry if it makes no sense.   
> I'm not sorry (yes I am)

Monday morning arrived, and qi was ready. Bag packed the night before, bandana folded and ready, a change of clothes, gloves. Everything was set. Qi had qis baseball bat strapped to the side of the backpack, similar to some of the kids that went to the fields just outside the city. A small pocket knife for emergencies in qis sock.

Qi had pulled some, to get the day off. It wasn’t as if qi had to work at the kitchen in the first place, although the purpose was meaningful and the sleeping spot was good. Qi was the only person who worked there all the time, no one ever inspected anymore, they’d given up. 

The woman that had interviewed qim had been sacked, a few allegations had made their way down the grapevine, no one could figure out why she had to go, but Ancom assumed it was just budgeting and spite; either way, qi’d never met the new person, if there even was a new person.

So someone else was opening, Anpac to be specific, the guy owed him, qi had saved his boyfriends’ ass. And someone else was closing, probably one of the volunteers, if they didn’t rob the place.

The group had agreed, when Annat chose where she was staying they’d all convene back under the bridge; none of them said why they were doing it. But they all knew deep down.

It was a silent consensus, she would be going back with her grandfather, and they all thought it was for the best, but they still wanted to spend the night together. Ancom had hidden a bag of qis bedding for grabbing once they got back, and if qi was too lazy someone would lend something, qi had slept on some really bad shit before.

They met at the bus stop. Not many words were exchanged. They just stood there, shoulder to shoulder. Quiet and comfortable, although the tension was still an unignorable present, breathing down their necks like a beast that was immortal and invisible. 

Everyone had concealed a change of clothes and a weapon. 

Ancom could tell Ansyn was packing more than his knife, for one he had his bat on his backpack as well, but qi could also see the glint of something with lots of sharp edges. He was wearing all black, and a grey jacket, very discrete and good at concealing the blood.

Anfem was dress in her dungarees, and a dark blue jacket, her hair covered by a hat, she had a cricket bat poking out the top of her bag, as well as a heavy metal water bottle, qi knew was filled with stones. She also had a knife, pressed to her hip.

Ancy was in all black, underarm and jeans, as well as a dark green t-shirt over the top, that was slightly too big for him, Ancom knew something was hidden under his t-shirt, he also had his pepper spray, he had strapped it to the pocket of his jeans like a little kids charm.

They all had gloves, they all had masks, and no one could pick them out of a crowd if they didn’t know what they were looking for.

______________________________________________________________

The bus ride was tense but not hideous, no other passenger would come near them, everyone knew, no matter how hard they tried pretending they were out to play ball, everyone knew. But no one could say anything. 

It seemed in the past week, after the riots, the police had been regressing, hiding away. They hadn’t answered the call as often as they had, which was difficult as the pigs barely ever responded, to begin with.

Ancom was next to Ancy for the ride, he shared his headphones and they listened to some of his weird electro, a lady by the name of Mandidextrous and then some weird guy named Stivs. The music was loud and blaring and intense, perfect for the mission qi supposed as qi stared out the window, mind drifting in and out of qis own small reality, but even so, qi remaining alert every move made by another passenger was watched like a hawk. 

It was weird, Ancy was energetic as ever, but the looming idea of what they were about to do was just… they were all quiet. Ansyn and Anfem sharing a hushed conversation that turned into a rather heated argument, until it just fizzled out.

Ancom remained in that weird space between alert and distant the entire journey feeling like a constant attack on qis senses, wondering how they would deal with the pigs if they actually turned up. They had all dealt with it before, running dodging getting away, but the idea still scared qim, even if qi’d faced so much worse in the world. The police and their guns the police and their disregard for the rules.

When they stopped off at a dingy road Ancy stood, dragging qim up with him, the other two followed, they filed out the bus, hands in their jackets, gripping their masks, their disguises, Ancom noticed a nearby ally. Perfect.

______________________________________________________________  
It was a slight maze, but Ancy led them through the concrete jungle with little issue, they’d all dawned their masks and gloved and were getting ready for what they assumed would be a fast manoeuvre.

In all honesty, it was.

The mall, the MacDonalds. Half the windows were smashed and the worker exit ally had the distinct smell of urine. The weak of stomach probably would’ve gaged at the overpowering scent. But the group just scattered around. They’d all seen the photo of the guy before. They knew the bastard, every detail of his face, and the swastika on his arm.

Time slipped by, second by second, but they all knew the rules. If he wasn’t out by 12 minutes past his shift end, they would have to leave, they weren’t missing the bus for this guy. No matter how much they wanted his blood.

But they didn’t have to.

About 4 minutes past the end of his shift he had left through the back, none of them moved. They now played the wait and jump game. Cat and mouse, but they were preying on an unsuspecting victim.

Ancom would’ve almost felt bad for him. Qi never liked to have an unlevel playing field. But an eye for an eye. A limb for a limb. Ancom wasn’t going to let him get away with this shit now would qi?

He walked down the road, MacDonald’s uniform hidden under a black hoodie that covered most of everything. He had earphones in and was walking head bowed inspecting his phone, the group followed from a distance, watching as he manoeuvred blindly with ease.

But he eventually turned down an ally. A dark wet space, it smelled of decay and mould. Where no one could see his face. No one was out, although it was the middle of the day, the streets were lost in filth and a damp nihilistic sense of being left alone. Deserted.

He disappeared within the darknesses clutches, and the group followed.

He didn’t come out. And his tattoo had been wrecked, sliced with a criss-cross pattern so that the skin would never heal as it had once appeared before.

It was only with a small dark sense of justice that the four left him, bleeding out. They did call an ambulance. They weren’t heartless, but they knew he wasn’t mortally injured just a head injury and a few bruises, nothing that would fade quickly. 

Maybe it would knock something into him. Or maybe it would just make him go deeper into the shit world he had already decided to become immersed in.

Ancom found, quite horrified deep down, that qi didn’t cair.  
______________________________________________________________

The group got changed, they got packed away, wrapped the bloodied tools in clothes, and the clothes in plastic bags. Shoved deep into backpacks. The incriminating weapons were treated wth gasoline on the blades and were also hidden away. Although bloodstains remained, they would need to dry before being cleaned properly.

No one spoke. After the immediate check-ups and clean up, they fell into this heavy silence, one that spoke more than any number of words. They didn’t feel bad. They didn’t feel anything. The fascist got what he got. 

The bus was still awkward, they had wiped away the blood, and looked presentable enough. But it felt, now more than ever, as if every person’s eyes were laid upon them, suspicion surrounded them fear incaged them and nothing could be done to quell the rampant beating of Ancoms heart. 

Ancy and Anfem were now next to each other. Ansyn and Ancom remained in the silence, but Anfem tried to talk normally, debating Ancy on music genres but no attempt to start a conversation worked, before long she was also silent.

Stop after stop Ancom stared forward, not paying attention to where they were, just the swaying of the bus the beating of qis heart and the sick feeling deep down inside qis gut. It wasn’t remorse it was more regret, regret for what? Qi couldn’t pinpoint. But as time slid on the feeling did nothing bet persistently knawe at qis subconscious mind.

Ansyn lent against qim, he didn’t like PDA, even with his closest friends which meant this was dire, he pressed against Ancom, his muscles clenched his eyes alert as he resisted the urge to cling to the shorter.

Not a single word was exchanged, it was better that way.  
______________________________________________________________

Once they reached their spot it was Ancy who once again took the lead, he was still processing what he had just partaken in but the thought of seeing his friend seemed to keep him occupied. 

The four filed off the bus into a parking lot, huddling together slightly, they had no reason to fear, it was just a manoeuvre they always took. Anfem and Ancom ever side of Ancy, Ansyn bringing up the back, watching his shadow like a hawk ready to be attacked from behind, at any second.

They made their way to the general front entrance and once again filed into the waiting room of endless seating, or at least that’s how Ancom saw it now. All empty space and piercing gazes, closing in on qim as it stretched out ever side, an anomaly of man crushing down from above as it carried on in both directions of the great beyond. 

They took a seat after checking with the front desk, this time there was no line so the group could stick together, although the front desk staff took one look at them and seemingly scoffed.

They waited patiently, quickly joined by a slightly flustered Graeme, who explained to the group the small issue of Annats brother. He was in his car bed but didn’t want to come into the building. The explanation was so rushed and the words were blending together, Ancom couldn’t tell if that was a symptom of qis recovering mind or that he was just being too fast. 

Either way, he asked them to bring Annat to meet them outside when she came out as he couldn’t leave Anprim to his own devices.

The group didn’t ask questions, just nodded and let the man leave. His presence was a slight break to the silent monotony they were all so deeply implanted in for a brief moment.

“When did they say she was coming out?”

Ancy asked for about the fourth time, he had vacated his seat in the chair to lounge on the carpet, constantly checking his phone, he had bypassed the security to the staff wifi was now trying to hook up with the front desk ladies phone. Or so he mumbles explained, the one-time Ansyn asked, just to break the tension.

No sooner had he asked, the double doors at the end were quietly opened, all their heads turned as they had a few thousand times instinctively.

There she was, in her scruffy oversized jeans, covered in rough stitching, the vest top she had worn through the entirety of winter, refusing to take it off, and that sunshine bright almost wicked witchy smile.

She was getting out of the hospital, a few scars on her arms and bags under her eyes, but nothing some rest and time wouldn’t fix. She was pale and unsteady. But walked with all the confidence of a celebrity chef after telling a bad cook how fucking awful their meal truly was just for the cameras to stare on aimlessly at the recipient’s horror.

“Hey!”

Anfem yelled with such joy in her voice it was infectious, momentarily melting all the fear and uncertainty that had plagued Ancom not a second before. Annat looked over beaming at the rest of the group. But before she could even begin to come over, she was tackled by Anfem; a wall of muscle stopping her dead in her tracks, it was funny as both girls were about the same hight (Anfem argued she was about a centimetre taller), Anfem wrapped around her, engulfing her in that bare like grasp.

“Hey there!”

Annats voice was muffled by the other. Pressed closely in.

“It’s been a few… how are we all doing, no one got killed while I wasn’t there to help?”

She sounded sceptical, even humorous but her voice was still muffled beneath the affectionate bear hug.

Slowly Anfem drew away, and Annat sighed a sigh of relief, grinning at the girl with wild eyes. 

“Yeah, almost died... But we didn’t, now please never leave again, cuz I can’t contain the stupid any better than the rest of the group..”

Ansyn commented, lounging in the seat as if to pretend he hadn’t been just as anxious as the rest.

“Yeah, I’ll try to avoid the hospital in future.”

She smiled, seeing right through him, Ancom supposed, as she turns her attention on each of them one by one, eyes scoping them each once over, checking for any form of injury qi supposed, they had all cleared up to the best of their skills, but the small amount of blood under qis fingernails itched.

“Your grandad’s outside.”

Ancy told her, rocking side to side on the floor, phone descended into his lap, forgotten.

“He wants you to come out and see him.”

He continues to rock, on the floor, excited and anxious. 

“Well, let us not keep him waiting…”

Ancy hopped up at that, and so did Ancom and Ansyn, following the newly returned members lead, as she began to spin around facing the door.

“But first,” 

and that wicked grin had returned, the one that could terrify grown-ass-men with the malevolent power held in the twinkle of her eye, the pure energy she carried, once she started whatever she had conducted within that strange playground she called a mind, nothing would stop her,

“HUGS!”

And she dove at Ancy, not giving him any time to prepare, between her and Anfem no one really knew how they survived from the sudden surging, searching for emotion, she clung to the smaller, attaching to him, locking him within her grasps.

Ansyn and Ancom knew to try backing off, preparing to blot, but they didn’t get far, as Anfem caught them both in her arms and bundled them all together. It was a few moments of the packed hug, and in that time Ancom counted every way the people around them may kill them. Maybe the hospital was secretly run by neo-nazis, maybe a gun-toting crazy Karan was looking for normal kids she could kill for minerally inconveniencing her. But nothing came about.

They relinquished the hug and began to make there a way to the outside, Annat walking with this spring in her step usually reserved for the few occasions they made it out to the woods at the edges of the cityscape, or the small parks they randomly stumble in ready to scavenge for scraps.

The sun hit her face but she didn’t wince, she stood in the door frame eyes closed breathing in deeply. The outside world swirling around her.

“I think I’ve found your padre.”

Ansyn commented, shattering the moment of bliss as they stepped out into the sunlight. He spoke with a light tone staring off into the car park, a single brow raised.

As the rest of them looked in the same direction as Ansyn, an earsplitting call rang out across the area. A man stood on the roof of a ratty old pick up, he was shirtless and had a comically large bone in one hand. 

In any normal situation, they would’ve assumed crazy homeless guy and moved on, or maybe get him a quick meal or a drink, depending on the day. But now was different as now the shirtless dude was staring straight at the group, shaking the bone in what Ancom hoped was welcome or joy, not perceivable anger. He recognised them or at least was singling them out.

“Anprim, for the last bloody time. Get down and sit still.”

A rather stern voice came from somewhere on the other side of the car as the group approached, tentatively walking towards the insane car climber, assumably Anprim, as long as no other people were climbing on the roves of cars.

“If you don’t get down, you’ll be made to ride in the backseat, and the windows won’t be open.”

Anprim froze at the stern words, eyes narrowing before turning around to face whoever had just spoken.

“Grug no wanna.”

He spoke stiltedly, face souring as he lowered his bone

“Then get down, before someone calls the cops, again.”

Graeme’s tired voice responded. 

“But- but!”

He tried to respond, glancing over at us, 

“I know she’s here, I can see her too. But it’s polite to meet when we are on the ground -and wearing a shirt-”

His last comment was barely audible over the normal day to day sounds, but his comment did not go unnoticed.

“Shirt sign of man-kind failures.” 

Anprim retorted, a bitter expression on his face as he jumped down off the roof into the truck bed, landing with light catlike agility, before spinning neatly on his heel and facing the group, eyes lit up like burning suns

“Me Grug. or Anprim! Sister?”

He was loud and proud but as he spoke directly to Annat, his eyes large and curious fixed upon the other with this almost desperate yearning gaze.

“Yeah…”

Her voice was quiet as she stared at the guy, he was skinny up close, no meat to him, lean. Like a swimmer or a runner. His eyes were sharp, and although his speech countered, his gaze was intelligent.

“Missed.”

And he jumped out of the truck bed, launching across the concrete at an incalculable speed, like an arrow flying through the air. He was skinny and extremely light, his velocity gave him some impact, and as he grabbed her with strong tight arms Annat fell back into Anfem, who thinking faster braced ready for the impact.

Ansyn let out a sharp yell of surprise at the sudden movement, while Ancy lept backwards, avoiding being clipped by anyone flailing limbs effortlessly. But the group stayed mostly upright, staring down at Annat, with slight concern, although Anfem held her and her brother upright.

“Yeah… I missed ya two.”  
______________________________________________________________  
So tears were silently held and soft words of joy spoke, the group were preparing to leave, the joy in her eyes showing she was safe with her brother. Annat was going to stay with her grandad for a few weeks (probably forever really), no one wanted to admit it, seeing as there friend was going to a safe protected place, but they all felt shit about seeing her go. 

It wasn’t that they didn’t want her to be happy, and Ancom felt guilty for wanting her to stay in the shit show that was their existence but it was just better for her if she stays, even if the thought of seeing her go was cruising. But she was safe.

They began to walk away stooped in silence, the joy of their friends’ recovery soured by the sight of her leaving them. But then Graeme said a frown creasing his wrinkled well-worn face,

“You kids shouldn’t be on the bus this late, could be a murderer going around. Wanna bunk the night at my plot?”

They all snapped around to face the man, the mesmerising tantalising chance of being able to stay with Annat for a little longer clashing with their distrust of others, even those who were proven safe.

They stayed still, waiting for another to react first, no one wanted to be left alone, no one would step out first. But it was Annat who answered for the, she was leaning on the side of the car, the much taller Anprim clinging to her, only slightly loosened to giver room to breathe. 

“They’ll bum the night, make sure you won’t end out stealing my organs, or dumping me at old Fashy’s front door, not that any of us know where he lives, or that you two would do anything like that.”

She laughed easily, her hair, although dull from days spent indoors, seemed to catch the light as easily as old times, the manic twinkle in her eyes more of a challenge, for any of them to say something contradicting her, no one had any qualms over anything, however.

“Then it’s settled?”

He asked, almost redundantly, as, if the person who had just got out of hospital after a near-death experience said something was gonna happen, well it was going to happen.

They all nodded none the less. And after he signalled an invitation with his hand, everyone boarded.

Jumped into the van bed, it was actually rather roomy, Anprim releasing his sister and instead turned so that he was eyeing the others with this territorial ire mostly noticed in a cat, defending what it considered its territory.

“Who?”

He asked as everyone settled in he was the closest to the back of the car bed, he was on the left of Anat who had settled into the middle of the left side of the car bed, on her other side was Ancy, who sat closest to the window, and by extension Graeme. He was his usual energetic self, seemingly struggling to hold back a typhoon of words, questions and thoughts. He was a bundle of energy.

The question was not directed at anyone really, but as Anprim looked around the car, his eyes narrowed when he looked at Ansyn then became confused once they settled on Ancom. A varied group surrounded him

“So… these are my friends… This is Anarcho-Syndicalism. But we call him Ansyn.”

She motioned to Ansyn with a flourish of her hand a smile bright enough to melt a glacier, 

“Next to me is Crypto-anarchism or more commonly know as Cyber-Anarchism or Ancy,” 

Ancy instinctively waved big smile plastering his face and bobbing with pent up energy. His clear smaller stature putting Anpim at ease, although his eyes still occasionally fell on Ansyn, sizing him up or something of the like.

“Accross from me is Anfem Anarcha-feminism.”

A single nod of recognition was passed to Anprim, from the largest of the group, before she turned her attention back to Annat. Her constant vigilant watching never ceasing.

“And across from you is Ancom! Or Anarcho-communism.”

Ancom smiled awkwardly, eyes flashing across Anprim instinctively, trying to figure out what this guy’s general deal was. Once she had finished up with the introductions Annat turned back to her brother, 

“Pronouns are as follows: Ancy and Ansyn he/him for me and Anfem she/her and Ancom is qi/qim.”

She smiled, expectantly to her sibling, who was clearly still processing, he didn’t seem confused over the pronouns, which was a plus, qi supposed. But from the little ha had talked qi wondered if he ever really used pronouns, he seemed to be just staring a lot, each person getting picked apart by those strangely intelligent eyes.

“Technology bad.”

He said, as the light reflected off Anfems shitty cheap watch flicked off momentarily into his eye, blinding him as he drew away. It was a bland black design, with a small digital interface, that had somehow not been destroyed by the terrible weather conditions. 

“So you never gave up.”

Annat looked at him, with these big curious eyes, it was almost an expression of admiration, but it was ruined slightly by the concerned tilt of the head. There was no time for him to answer and qi wondered if he understood the question, to begin with, Ancom didn’t.

“What have you done, while I wasn’t here?”

She asked, cautiously, as Anprim fidgeted, the truck had been moving for a short time, but it was clear it was agitating him, Ancom remembered his rather sudden mood swing earlier from the car roof, the only thing to get him down was the threat of riding inside a car.

Qi hadn’t known the guy for long, but it was clear he had a little bit of the famous family crazy, he was literally shirtless, and had a comically large bone, that looked more like a bat up close, leaning on his leg. 

“Grug has done what Grug done.”

He sounded proud, sitting higher, in the rattling car, but, just as he did so, the car hit a rather nasty pothole, sending all of us up, jostling against each other as we tried to stay stead. Anprim immediately hunched back down, face contorted in a snarl, 

“technology bad. Anprim hate car.”

Annat nodded, seemingly unbothered by the pothole, but now had one hand firmly gripped around a rather disgruntled looking Ancy, who had been thrown a little harshly into the side of the car and was wincing.

Ansyn looked at Anprim with a raised brow, he had an arm reached out, frozen as if to catch the smallest, but withdrew it in a matter of moments, never truly breaking his gaze.

“What do you mean by you’ve done what you’ve done?”

The curved eyebrow intensified as he leant back in his seat on the bench, staring at the other. Grug, ever out of stupidity or bravery, or a disregard for danger, responded with,

“Grug has done what Grug has done.”

Annat chuckled lightly, before shooting a covert look at the other, no one (apart from her brother clearly) missed it. Play nice or I won’t, it was the look that was most often used in social situations, no one crossed the line once it got there. It meant danger, step back, let me talk you just look scary, or stop existing at all; otherwise, I WILL rip you a new one.

Annat, although against murder and most other violence, was a force to be reckoned with regardless. A wall of sharp words and barbed compliments. She could break down almost anyone and make it still feel like she was being entirely honest and nice.

Ansyn narrowed his eyes, continuing to look at the guy with a contemptive gaze but kept his mouth shut.  
______________________________________________________________  
Annat wasn’t kidding when she joked about how loaded her family was, even the outcast group got a shit tone from past arrangements. She’d always talk about how she was missing out on a bitch tone of cash cuz she’d rather stay in hiding than in the foster system. Or worse back at the crazy hell compound that was her family home.

They entered a heavy set of iron gates, the property must’ve stretched so much land, a fence ever side of a gate getting lost in a sea of trees, the rocky track leading through the woods was bumpy and uneven. 

The thought occurred to Ancom, they could kill them all. Graeme could get out and pull a gun, shoot them all. Anprim could jump on one of them, slit a throat rip out hair, would they react fast enough? 

Any number of images snapped through Ancoms head, like a layer of snow they muffled all reasonable thought.

But when they stopped no man dressed in black came out guns blazing, they parked just before a clearing, in a smaller hollow, the car trundled to a stop, and the clasp on the back was released, but no one used the propper exit, they all just jumped over the edge, Anarchists don’t need rules.

Anprim grinned this almost manic grin

“Thank Sun-God we survived!”

He then proceeds to perform a seemingly random dance, leaping around manically, qi watched in slight astonishment as his movements thrashed wildly, nearly hitting Ancy and Annat but barley avoiding them, before finishing back where he started, panting slightly from the insane performance.

“Yeah… you sure this guys not like… insane”

Ancom whispered passingly to Ansyn as the group began to follow Graeme, who had stood and watched as his grandson did whatever he just did, a slight half-smile on his lips.

“I don’t fecking know.”

Ansyn responded eyeing the other, this courteously curious expression on his face.

“But I don’t feel I like him.”

He sighed as he watched Anprim dart in and out of the trees, the area around them covered in green, the sun would be setting soon and they both knew they had to somehow clean or at least hide some of the bloodied clothes.

They continued, at the back of the group, watching as Anfem talked with Annat and Anprim, a minorly curious expression lifting the corners of her lips into a polite smile, as her eyes worked with deep-seated interest.

Once they reached the end of the short road however they were met with a rather large yet sweet-looking house, it was two storeys, with a rustic -kinda- vibe. The front porch was decorated with a plethora of potted flowers, and a small table with two mismatch chares along with a few logs, leaning against the walls or propped up like stools.

“Welcome to my humble abodes.”

Graeme said, with a sweep of his outstretched hand. 

“Do make yourself comfortable, I’ll show Annat her room, then we can talk in the sitting room?”

He asked, gently as he held the heavy wood door open, inviting them all in.

“And will you please join us Anprim?”

He asked almost imploringly, looking at the shirtless guy with an almost pleading expression curving the corners of his eyes. He was shifting uncertainly looking at the inside with distaste.

“Grug will… join.”

He sighed, looking at his grandad with a resigned expression after the few moments of deliberation.

The rest of the group filed in, as Graeme gently motioned to his granddaughter to follow, they all had to let her go, although no one was particularly elated at the fact they were being separated, least of all Anprim, who suddenly looked deeply uncomfortable. 

The warm light Graeme had turned on, casting his tan skin in an almost sickly glow, Ancom noticed a lot of scars, some of which looked rather nasty, yet they were clear cut, others looked like wounds that had been infected.

They made there way through to the sitting room, almost every surface littered with notes, Anprim settled on the floor, avoiding touching the whine red rug, his eyes narrowing accusatorily at any item in the room, as if he was personally blaming it for every piece of suffering he had ever endured. 

The rest followed, Anfem taking a seat on the large sofa, while Ansyn and Ancy settled on the floor ever side of her. Ancom leant against the arm of the sofa, facing Anprim.

“Technology bad.”

Grug whispered, as he shuffled backwards looking at the lightbulb over his head, he appeared rather out of place, the room was grand in a rustic way, while he was covered in dirt and shirtless. 

“I understand you keep saying that but why?”

Ancy asked, leaning forward, while still gripping lightly onto Anfems leg, the safety she projected with her presence letting him feel slightly less alone.

“Industrial revolution ruin everything for mankind.”

Anprim responded gravely. That got him weird looks from everyone.

“What?”

Ancy was looking at him incredulously, leaning further into Anfem, as Ansyn developed this grave expression, a take on ‘I knew it’ mixed with ‘this guy’s fucking crazy.’

“The Industrial Revolution and its consequences have been a disaster for the human race.”

He rattled off, the strange speaking pattern dropping to let the line be delivered in an almost eloquent manner, something far from anything a shirtless dirty teenager on the floor should be able to project.

“Hu… so your crazy?”

Ansyn said, sarcasm dripping from his tong like acid, lacing the words.

“No.”

Anprim smiled, not registering the sudden change in tone, or more so shift, as Ansyn hadn’t liked him thus far.

“I think…. We will disagree on a lot of positions”

Ancy said, sitting back up slightly, looking at the guy with a newfound curiosity.

“But I’d like to hear how you reached that conclusion.”

He smiled amicably, but the slight flames of passion burned behind his eyes, he was hiding how much he wanted to defend his precious technology for the sake of peace? Or maybe research, Ancom couldn’t tell. 

Thinking about the language thing, Ancom wondered about Commie, how he spoke with a heavy accent and -occasional- broken sentences. Qi was pretty sure it was a change in language, but with Annats brother it could be a socialisation thing, from what qi understood, the cult of personality wasn’t the best in the world when it came to spreading affection to their youth.

But this was weird, he was was weird, he was only a little older than his sister, where was the disconnect? Why was he so-

“Hope we didn’t miss anything.”

The soft reassuring voice of Graeme expanded out into the living space, cutting the trail of thought off before it could turn to something inevitably darker. Ancom looked around at him, seeing a slightly smiling Annat following behind. 

“Nothing much, just Anprim doesn’t like technology?”

Anfem responded, a warm welcoming smile gracing her face, although her eyes held this troubled undertone.

“Ah, well, he and his friends often argue over that, he’s stuck to his principles this long, so I’m sorry to say you may no be able to change him on that.”

Graeme smiled once more, the lines carved around his eyes from years of smiling holding a proud and apologetic appeal, the polarising feelings still settling across his face as he made his way to an armchair. 

“I suppose we should catch up?”

He smiled warmly at his granddaughter. Ancom was happy for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit, I'm shitty at editing my own work sometimes, I'm like 3 chapters ahead but I go back and half the shit I've written makes no sense. F.
> 
> Anywayyyy, another chapter out we get to meet Anprim, imma go die now. we stan this disaster hobo. sorry. idk what I'm doing with my life :))


	13. Get on with it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> say hi to transhumanist.  
> also, like drama? I'm bad at it, doesn't mean I'm not gonna try!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so, holy shit. I am bad at time management. I think.   
> I really find the editing process takes like 3x the amount of time than the fucking writing possess.   
> kill me.
> 
> yeah but tada. I have another killer chapter, next ones shorter. I have it shorter, I have it written. just need to find edit it. though at this point sacrificing myself to some ancient being would be easier. idk sorry. I'm really fucking tired.
> 
> also, I have no clue how phones work or like food, or like anything, just excuse my general stupidity, please.

Ancom was up first, it was due to qis natural clock, getting up to open the shop and all. But it was qis off day, so qi didn’t have to worry. That being said qi usually liked to sleep more in the morning, but the anxiety stewing deep down was wholly unforgettable. Qi sat up slowly, groggy from the slowly ebbing sleepiness. 

Qi opened qis eyes to the nicely furnished sitting room, they had all agreed to sleep the night on the floor. The barely usable morning sunlight filtered in, rise with the sun, bathing the room in a weird array of pale light cut up by the outside trees, it was illuminating the more creepy cabin-in-the-woods vibe.

Everyone else was still curled up on the carpet, a few blankest had been passed around but most of them were used to sleeping without anything. So they sprawled out on the certifiable softer carpet, Ancy had curled closely with Anfem and Ansyn had a hand reached out so he was barely touching the youngest’s arm.

Ancom quietly got up, the sun was barely visible glittering through the woods reaching out to a far off horizon. Ancom’s mind was already moving at an astounding pace, if qi hurryed qi could clean most of the bloody stuff up before anyone was awake, it was probably safe to say no one would be up. The vague memory of a river lurked at the back of qis mind. 

It wasn’t the best option but qi could claim to be smoking if anyone woke up and wondered where qi was and the blood would be washed away.

So with as little noise as possible qi gathered everyone’s belongings, the weapons bundled within the clothing as before, and everything slipped into the largest backpack. Ancom didn’t think about how qi would explain the bag to someone enquiring, all qi could do was hope no one rated qim out.

As qi walked along the corridor, the house seemed to watch, leering down. Qi preferred to be alone at these times when the thoughts of being watched plagued qim when qi felt so alone. It was better to alone then for someone unwelcome to recognise the weakness. Bitter thoughts plagued qim for a split second, it was ad if qi was just that sad little kid hiding in the shadows once again.

Thankfully the front door wasn’t far off and as the morning air spilt across qis face it was s if the bad thought were washed from qim entirely. The morning was far from cold, as qi delicately stepped out onto the front porch, but it was colder than a summer morning when the day would be boiling to the core of any beings soul and the sun unbearable across the eys.

Qi liked the warmth, it was a happy middle. But as quickly as the worrisome thoughts had been washed away new ones came around to churn qis stomach and tug at qis thoughts, now qi whished the air had some more it.

Slowly trailing around the house, qi noticed the small brook, running along next to the house, the track down to it looked well walked and a spot next to it was a perfect area to lean down and clean the contacts of qis bag.

So with one last glance around, qi settled down next to the river.

Time slipped away, as qi worked tirelessly to remove the stains, the water held an icy bite that qi appreciated and detested. It set qis nerves on fire while also numbing qis hands. Usually when cleaning qi had a lookout. But now qi was alone.

And alone meant variable. Or so qi believed.

“Why are you up so early?”

A soft voice filtered out, filling qis senses with unrivalled fear, no time for a reason no time for stooping, qi whipped around the sharp knife belonging to Ansyn grasped in qis hand, like a crazed -X seeking revenge.

What qi was greeted with was an old man, standing a few feet back his hands in the air and concern written across his face.

“Now what do we have here?”

He asked sadly, looking at the smaller with less fear and more confusion, blended with a slight feeling of concern. Slowly Ancom lowered qis knife, although it did not loosen in qis grip, qi still wasn’t sure he was trustable. But the reckless man slowly he approached anyway, Ancom dint knows what to think of that.

The panic rose in qis through like vomit after a heavy night of drinking, its powerful intent overthrowing any other thing within qis thoughts. But it wasn’t fear of what the man could do, Ancoms primal brain knew that qi had a knife, qi could take him in a fight, it was what he could see.

In desperation qi dove at the bag, using qis own body to protect it. The already clean clothes layout to dry, along with one of the other knives.

Graeme’s frown deepened.

“I can back off if it’ll make you feel better.”

He looked at the kid with soft reassuring eyes, slowly Ancom nodded, the tip of qis head barley moving, eyes always fixed upon the other. He moved back up to the top of the track and settled in a small clump of grass to the side. Looking down at Ancom from the slight distance, qi dint relax.

“Is what you’re doing illegal?”

He finally asked, looking at Ancom with an unreadable expression.

What can qi answer that with? It was a direct question but then what was the answer? Is cleaning the blood illegal? Or is just the method of getting the blood a crime? Is this destruction of evidence? If they got caught it was worse for them to have evidence on them.

“From your silence, I’ll assume it’s nothing good.”

He finally said, looking at qim with a single raised eyebrow.

Ok fair, Ancom agreed; nothing good came out of silences, but did he have to look so… like that while, he called qim out like that?

A chuckle was rased out the other. 

“Annat was a fiery soul, she had a heart of gold and her headset right, even when she was young and surrounded by so much of… them. She was always willing to be compassionate.”

He paused for a few moments still gazing at Ancom, for the first time qi really looked at him, not as an old man not as ‘nat’s grandad. But as his own individual. 

He had deeply cared smile lines, a tiny scar near his right eye. He was well built, a working man. But his eyes shone a deep hazel, they reflected a world of wisdom only earned in age. He looked like one of the old mentors from a shitty action flick, but he was real, not some entity puppeted by corrupt tv studios. 

“ Annat was set right. And when she made friends she picked the right kind. The family never took to her brand of ‘right’ of course.”

He chuckled humorlessly, the tips of his rather unkempt morning hair shivering, for his age, he still had a bit of not grey hair. It was almost like salt and pepper, sticking up in all directions.

“But I believe she never lost that skill, her talent to find people, not wholly good, no ones truly perfect, but they were… something.”

He frowned at Ancom, for a few long moments, as he had been speaking qi had sat back, still concealing the contents of the bag. The knife resting on top, more of a last line of defence now.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, and I don’t think you’ve told her. Now, I don’t want an explanation.”

He said while slowly rising, Ancom had tensed 

“But I think Annat should be in the know, at least. Now,”

He rubbed his hands together, his whole demeanour changing

“I’m making y’all breakfast, and I was considering an offer I may believe you’d be inclined to accept.”

Ancom remind still

“I’ll pretend I never saw you, this conversation never happened.” 

He shuffled to the side as he spoke as if to live but froze as he began to ask, a sheepish grin cracking his wrinkled face

“Any of you veggie?”

_______________________________________________________

About half an hour later Ancom was finished clothes all laid out next to qim in a weak attempt at drying them before bringing them all back, the last knife that was cleaned, qis own still in qis grasp as qi stilled for a few moments basking in the weak morning sun that slowly seemed to seep into qis cold body.

Over the time qi spent preoccupied with the task of destroying evidence, qi hadn’t been thinking about the work, the repetitive task, although casing fears to frayed qis nerves, was easy to be set to. So qi had plenty of space to wonder qis mind.

Graeme didn’t hate qim, which was a plus. Although he had seen the blood he hadn’t really inquired. Let everything slide to the side, it was odd, but not unthinkable, he was related to Annat, who had an astounding moral compass, but still let some shitty stuff happen in the name of justice. 

Once the blood had been washed away, Ancom stood, qis muscles growing tight, qi had sat there -more like crouched, or squatted- way too long. Qi scooped up the still drying clothes and bundled them into the bag, they weren’t gonna dry at any rate of reasonable pace.

And finally, qi made qis way back to the house, the well walked track seeming less daunting, the sun better shining, although it was still barely visible. 

“Grug say hello.”

A familiar voice ran across qis perception as qi made it to the end of the path, the rather boisterous brother came running out of the brush, twigs and leaves sticking in his wild hair.

“Greetings stranger.”

Another voice, this one very calm almost robotic. Qi turned in confusion further facing the brush to look past Anprim, there behind him was a rather peculiar looking individual, he had a cardboard box on his head, arms covered in tinfoil and just this very confusing vibe about him

“Hi.”

Ancom replied, in a rather quiet, almost soft, extremely un-Ancom like voice.

“Who are you?”

Qi asked looking at the robot box man.

“I am Grug. We met?”

Anprim replied, clearly not registering the direction qi’s curiosity.

“He means me,”

Ancom couldn’t help but wince. No one ever got it right on the first time, but it still stung. Qi quickly corrected, a slight pitch increase in qis voice,

“Its qi/qim.”

Qi smiled anxiety-ridden and ready to run, it was too early for this shit, and although qi had a lot of knives and a few bats it didn’t feel the same without the group, and if Anprim turned on qim... 

Qi felt a slight brace in qis stomach urging qim to run back to the house, back to qis friends.

“My apologies. Are they your pronouns? If so,”

He turned back to Anprim and corrected

“Qi means me, dear.”

His voice was calm and level, no emotion was conveyed, but Ancom got a vague sense he was genuinely apologetic of his mistake, not just condescending as most would choose to do.

“That make sense.”

Anprim replied, after frowning at the ground with narrowed eyes for a few moments.

“Yeah… who are you?”

Ancom prompted, the man looked at qim with the robot-like cardboard-box head. The eyes were cut out and Ancom could barely make out a small patch of skin underneath.

“My name is Transhumanist. My pronouns are he/him. I am in a relationship with Anprim.”

He rattled off like a list being read aloud, no inflexion, no humanity. Ancom couldn’t make out an accent either. All qi could figure was that this guy was super into robots and that sorta aesthetic, or he was crazy, but most probably both. Either way, qi sorta liked him, in the way someone so drowned in normal could relate to a fellow client of crazy.

“Grug thinks we should continue.”

Anprim was already on the move, his headset straight his posture not so. Ancom and Transhumanist followed, slightly slower than the hyperactive individual.

“You and Anprim are dating?”

Ancom asked, curiosity on the tip of qis tung.

“Yes.”

A short, to the point, reply. Ancom watched as slightly more human emotions slipped through though in other ways; his chest puffed out minutely and an ever so slight flick in his right hand, like he was grabbing for passing leaves, even though they had left the bushes behind.

“How long? If it’s not too personal?”

Ancom asked, still looking at the other with curiosity.

“14 months, 12 days and around 6 hours.”

His reply was measures, the almost perfect timing reminding qim of book characters, the smart methodical, all be it socially inept, team genius; a lot like their Ancy (although he was a lot younger). This cardboard box wearing boyfriend fit the bill.

“That’s a long time.”

Qi commented idly, as they reached the door.

“It is.”

He responded no real quantifiable feeling behind his voice, but the slightest hint of fondness was difficult to not notice.

The smell of eggs and tofu hit qim like a train, and for the first time in a while, qi thought about how qi was feeling. Hunger crashed down almost immediately. 

They made there way down the corridors, qi was looking at a few rooms they passed, the house was huge, hidden away in the woods, and all the rooms felt like tiny pockets, a way to another world. Anprim bounded down the corridor, not paying attention to the house around him. He barreled through the kitchen door with a strangled yell, something akin to a greeting, spinning dizzyingly around and around, grinning manically.

“Hi, Anprim,”

The chipper tone of Graeme returned the unorthodox greeting, with the natural tone of someone who had lived with the rather loud Anarchist for a while.

“Is Transhumanist joining us?”

His question was asked as they turned through the door, as they entered all Ancom noted the specific vibe the room gave off, the counters made of varnished wood, the walls hanging with all number of spices, in one corner a dead burd hung, although he had made a clear attempt of hiding it, with a few opened cupboard doors, it was strange, although not unpleasant as most modern kitchens were.

“I am here.”

Greeted Transhumanist, standing a few feet ahead of Ancom as he made his way into the room. Suddenly, his cardboard box was launched off, as Anprim darted back, barreling into him with the sheer amount of energy he exuded, he grabbed the other with both his arms which although they weren’t extremely muscular launched with a powerful grip.

Transhumanist stood for a few seconds, swaying from the impact and the new weight his boyfriend added, clinging to his side.

“I hope you’re having a lovely day.”

Transhumanist then continued, his voice slightly breathless, but once again level. The surprise, not fazing him beyond the few seconds of confusion.

“Ancom.”

Graeme exclaimed, looking past the strange pair, laying his hazel eyes upon the other.

“Didn’t see ya there.”

He smiled easily, waving a spatular in the air, like a conductors stick, as the music that was barely audible over everything else picked up its pace.

“The rest of your groups through in the living room. I’m making breakfast, then I need to chat.”

His smile never shifted, so Ancom following his directions wondered through to a weird, rather cluttered, dining room. Chairs were haphazardly scattered around a table, crushed together and Ancoms group sat at the table.

Once Ancom had settled and the groups morning greetings were exchanged, everyone turned to qim with an expression qi couldn’t quite place.

Annat was sat in the middle, looking at the others in confusion before turning to face Ancom.

“They told me that you guys did something yesterday, which is the reason you were out this morning,”

She smiled sheepishly before continuing, her gaze was travelling off to inspect the walls or the floor, but returning to qim ever so often, as though she was split between thought, the rest of the group seemingly held their breath.

“I sorta freaked when you weren’t with them, I woke up second, see. And, well, you weren’t there... and everyone’s weapons were… gone.”

She frowned looking at qim with a slightly more suspicious expression.

“Why were you out this morning? And why did you take the weapons? Even Ansyn’s.”

Her expression lousing all sheepish smiles or breezy explanation, no true judgment maybe suspicion, overall, her face was a blank slate and all eyes were on Ancom.

“Cleaning blood.”

Qi replied, shuffling back and forth in qis chair. An audible but no less tense hiss of air released from Ansyn, as he slouched in the high-backed chair he was sat in, it looked as though it belonged in an office. The other two hid their response more tactfully. 

Ancom didn’t really cair, however; as qi remind calm, staring at Annat with a relaxed gaze.

She made no real reaction, just continued to stare.

“Whose blood?”

Her question was calm. Her face unreadable, but her posture was slightly tense, Ancom couldn’t fathom why really. Well… 

“Fascist.”

Qi took a few moments before responding. How could qi admit qi’d forgotten the fuckers name?

“Was it-”

Annat began to ask another question, but just as she started the doors opened, revealing a brightly smiling Graeme and a relaxed enough Transhumanist, who was now being hugged rather aggressively by Anprim, clinging to him from behind, but his feet were on the ground, so it was less likely the taller would topple over. 

“Everything is about ready,”

Graeme’s smile was bright, 

“I moved the… bird. I hope no one was upset.”

He continued to smile anxiously at them all, as they stood. No one mentioning any upset, although Ancom could guess that Annat would have some choice words on poaching.

They grabbed plates, and got food, making their way back to find the other three already settled and eating, Anprim sitting on a stool fashioned out of a tree trunk that had been completely debarked.

The rest of the group eyed Transhumanist, with distrust.

“Who-”

Ansyn began before Ancy came through, looked once over at the table, took a double take and exclaiming

“Transhumanist!?”

His voice rasing an octave as he bounded over to give the guy a side-on hug.

“Its been ages!”

His voice was still higher than normal but was muffled by being pressed into the other’s clothing rather uncomfortably.

“Yeah.”

Transhumanist responded, voice a mix of monotone and surprise.

“Wait-”

Ansyn asked, looking at the pair then at the group then back to the pair

“You know each other?”

The question was blurted out more from surprise than shock, next to each other, the pare looked surprisingly similar, Ancom could only guess qi hadn’t noticed because of the box.

“Well duh.”

Ancy responded a playful grin playing across his face as he drew out the “duh” he extracted his way from the side-on hug and hurried over to his place, it was a miracle none of his food had spilt while he did so.

“He’s my cousin!”

Ancom raised an eyebrow at the guy, but there was no lie behind his words, just a rather blank slightly confused expression from where he had just been released by the smallest anarchist.

“That would explain a similar look.”

Anfem, unfazed by the realisation continued to her seat, her plate comprising of an egg and a rather wet looking pice of Tofu, it was clear Graeme wasn’t used to the cooking ingredient, qi guessed it was a miracle he even had some.

“Well… that’s fun.”

Ansyn, brow furrowed also returned to his seat, Ancom followed in silence, shooting a small half-smile at the rather unusual guy, 

“We shall eat, and then I would like to discuss communication. I have a lot of old phones, they aren’t amazing, ya know? the type you buy for like 20, but from the little I’ve observed, no one has a phone.”

The group stared at their plates, quietly nodding, Ancy was the only one who owned a phone, they never really had a reason to need one, well- they never had the overwhelming need for one. They lived together in a small area, and if someone went missing, they were dead or they would be found half dead. That was it. So there wasn’t really any use for a phone, no one could use one and no one could afford one.

Ancom shuffled slightly, as qi could observe the rest of the table, Anprim clearly hadn’t been paying attention as he happily munched on a piece of meat, that looked rather undercooked, but Ancom couldn’t judge.

Transhumanist, on the other hand, was watching with slightly narrowed eyes, one of his tinfoil covered arm slowly reaching out to Anprim, who between munches swapped out the hand he was feeding himself with so as to grasp the others tightly, absently leaning in slightly, no words were exchanged though.

“Yeah. No one really needed a phone.”

Ansyn replied, almost defensive as he drew himself up, eyes fixed and ready. But there was no counter challenge returned by Graeme, so he was almost immediately pressed back in on himself eyes dark, thinking.

“And that’s fair enough. But I have a bunch of spares and you’ll want to stay in contact? It’s fine if you don’t want them, I just wondered if maybe you’d want one.”

He was relaxed and inoffensive, dipping some bread in his egg. A soft smile creasing his face as it soaked up the delicious yolk, he seemed so serene, above it all. Ancom felt a slight shift from the way he had been earlier, although he was just as pleasant this seemed so relaxed, in his element. Ancom didn’t understand him. But qi knew he was something to watch.

Ansyn just sighed and nodded slowly at his plate, he didn’t seem up for really trying to fight that morning, just on the defensive, he always felt he needed to defend them all from scrutiny defend anyone, they all wanted the best for humanity in the end, qi supposed that was most peoples plans in life, qi hoped anyway...

“I have a phone!”

Ancy decided to pipe up, he had a weird assortment of raw tomatoes and wet looking tofu on his plate, he wasn’t a vegetarian, but his sister always bought veggie because it was cheaper. So he’d developed the taste for it, he did also have a piece of bread and what must’ve been the most destroyed looking egg on the planet, it spread out like a splat across his plate lumpy and random, but he was happy with it. 

A small pang of guilt hit Ancom although qi tried to press it down, they had entered this man’s house and he promised to look after there friend, had given them food and offered them all a phone so they could keep in contact, and all Ancom could do was fear him, qi knew qi was a paranoid bitch but this felt excessive.

“I know.”

Graeme smiled at the youngest, fondness radiating from him like rays of sunlight. 

“I saw you got into the internet. Is my password that weak? I thought it was pretty good myself.”

He frowned slightly the crease in his brow curving his entire face, but it was more confused than sad or angry.

“Na, I have no idea what your password is set as I just shared the wifi from the pc, you have a QR code set up, which was helpful.”

Ancy smiled cheerily, while the rest looked at him with minor confused, except Transhumanist who was nodding along rather happily, placing a single grape in his mouth as he watched the youngest with a levelled gaze

“I do concur you Ancy, not having the internet on the pc covered or at least hidden would be a point if you wish to avoid people getting to it. Although I haven’t seen anyone I do not know in theses woods, bar the people at the table for quite some time.”

Transhumanist mused as he placed a second grape in his mouth, fingers entwining with Anprims as the other shovelled whatever he could in his mouth like he was a starved man.

It was a strange picture, the table of randomly assorted people all looking grubby and tired even though they had just woken up. Graeme just blinked at Ancy, a bemused all be it confused smile curling his lips as he sat back and sipped a steaming cup of coffee.

The conversation was steady and polite, the anarchists not really sure what the rules were at Graeme’s table. So they avoided anything remotely interesting or possibly illegal, Ancy went on a miniature tirade about the best types of vegetarian meat substitutes, that everyone nodded along too, mostly lost in their thoughts.

After the meal and the quick gathering of plates discarded in the kitchen sink, the group settled back, so that they were able to face a softly smiling Graeme. No one knew what to expect, they knew he wanted to give them phones and Ancom kinda wanted a phone, but nagging in qis mind kept qim from outright accepting it, there had to be a catch

“The phones are in the second draw to the left of the table, I can’t reach it from here could one of you pull it out?”

His voice was soft and cheery, no semblance of ill intentions, Ansyn gathered himself first and grabbed the shelf, it pulled out of place immediately and slid so it wasn’t attached to the draw anymore, then he carried the shelf back over to the table, hands shaking at the strange angle he’d picked it up at.

“This it?”

He asked redundantly, as the inside contents were filled with a mixed assortment of random phones. They were all old boxy builds, Ancom recognised a wide range of Nokia and other 20 bucks throw away brands.

“Yep, that’s the lot.”

Graeme smiled down, eyes shining in the dimmed light, 

“Take your pick.”

He looked back up at the group, no one went in to grab one. 

Everyone’s brows furrowed and Ancy squinted much more cautiously and sceptically. Everyone was sat in desolate silence for a few long moments.

“They wanna know how much it’ll cost them.”

Annat lent back casually, looking at the group with a raised eyebrow. She still looked sickly pale and like she hadn’t been outside in months, but the spirit hadn’t been killed as easily by the hospital as she would often threat.

“Cost?”

Anprim cocked his head perplexedly as he looked up from where he’d been fiddling with a piece of wearing Transhumanist had pulled out of nowhere to counteract his slowly increasing fidgeting.

“Yeah. what’ll it cost us?”

Anfem was the one to speak, her eyes fixed a diplomatic sense, as she drew herself up, she looked imposing, but not in the way you’d expect a hulking figure to look, she was in no way violent and she honestly found it rather hard to consider harming someone she didn’t believe deserved it, but she looked smart, diplomatic, in compleat control of the situation. She looked imposing.

“I thought Annat said you were all against that type of thing?”

Graeme looked incredulous for a few seconds as the room sat in silence, a perplexed look drew on almost every face, Anprm was still happily playing with the wire, his attention already lost, while Transhumanist just raised a brow but remained silent for the most part.

“Yeah, we don’t like capitalism,” 

Ancom began slowly, eyes trained on the man as his brows furrowed further together, almost creating a thin caterpillar across his forehead.

“But we still have to partake in the system from day to day, we can’t really go out and begin taking whatever because that’s not how the world works, we have to look out for our selves, we can’t just work as part of the group and that be enough -yet-”

The last part was added so quietly that no one heard it, Ancom couldn’t tell if qi even voiced it, but it still felt important to say, even if it was only to qimself.

“Ok, fair. Um well, they’re free, second hand and all, but free.”

Graeme shrugged, and took another sip from his mug, he must’ve refilled it buy now but Ancom couldn’t remember him doing so. He just smiled sheepishly over the ridge. 

The group remained still for a few more moments before Annat sighed dramatically, leaning over she began rummaging through the draw, clearly looking. She pulled an old charcoal grey phone out, with a small light-up keypad and a green screen when she powered it on.

“This look good Ancy?” 

She asked holding it up so the younger member of their group could inspect, he stared for a few moments before shrugging 

“It’s decent enough, gets the job done, I think that model is also renowned for its ability to keep up battery life.”

He smiled sheepishly at her, Ancom couldn’t help but smile, he -for all his misfortune- never let anything hold him back. And just seemed to take life head-on, not looking back at what had once hurt him just carrying on worth his life as always.

“Good.”

Annat then tossed the phone at Ansyn, who had been momentarily distracted, luckily enough he caught it on reflex, eyes shooting back shock as he looked down at the phone that he had suddenly procured.

“There we go. Who’s next?”

Annat laughed good-naturedly at the momentary sower expression Ansyn threw her before he went to inspect his new phone 

“Yeah, yeah. Get over yourself.”

She quipped, before diving back into the draw, rummaging around. The next phone she pulled was a shiny grey, metallic. It looked straight out a 2000s classic movie, slightly scratched back, but nice none the less it had clearly been used slightly longer or was a little more destructible than Ansyn’s new device. 

Annat showed it to Ancy, who looked at it and gave a simple nod, decent enough. She tossed it to Anfem who was a little better prepared than Ansyn.

“Now it’s time for lil Ancom-o.”

She grinned at qim, as she dove back in for a third time, coming up almost immediately with a black-brick, it was the same as the other two, apart from it had a cracked light at the top, she clicked it and the light came on.

“Ta-da.”

She grinned, showing it to Ancy who also grinned, 

“There ya go Ancom. Good as any phone I hope.”

She grinned as Ancom caught it and looked at the screen, it was white lettering on a black background, the numbers were clunky and it all felt a little strange. Ancom smiled, 

“This is fucking awesome.”

Qi grinned up at the others as everyone exchanged numbers immediately, all the phones had different cards, ok strange, but not entirely strange? Maybe someone like Graeme just didn’t know you could move them, maybe he would shuffle numbers over, although the phones were wiped...

Ok weird but not unheard of. Sorta?

The rest of the morning went surprisingly smoothly after that small diversion. And before there was a chance for any real conversations (or private ones) the group had packed up and were being bundled into the car boot by a hyperactive Anprim and slightly concerned Transhumanist.

Annat took the ride with them, back to the bridge, she was going to pick up some of her stuff, and possibly a few of their valuables -as they thought it safe than their normal residence-. It was easier, not as intense, although the air hung heavy with unspoken words, Anprim had been an anxiety producer and once he wasn’t present, they were alone, there was no buffer between them at the awkward silence.

“Ancy, have you messaged your sister?”

Annat was soft, and she looked at the youngest with concern when he shook his head. No one was able to talk normally, no one was willing to try feelings hidden just below the surface.

“No...”  
“Don’t you think she’ll be worried?”

Anfem looked at the youngest, the same concern present within her eyes. Ansyn sighed and nudged both of them with his leg

“Back off, give ‘im some space.”

He was teasing, but the sight defensive tone behind his words wasn’t lost, defending the youngest against anything. Ancom chuckled, looking at qis fellows with sparkling eyes.

“Ok-ok.”

Annat threw her hands up, casually chuckling as she responded. Before her face dropped, a more serious expression overtaking her as she lent in further towards the middle of the truck-bed

“You guys know I won’t forget about you? You know I’ll be messaging as much as possible?”

She stared at them, earnest eyes reflecting the weak morning sun, her hands were wringing in her lap, where all of them could see the bare hint of bandage beneath her t-shirt. Everyone avoided eye contact, no one responded, it was suddenly too small in the car bed, not enough ways away, no one dared to breathe.

Ancom felt the smallest of bubbles behind qis throat pop as if an invisible balloon had been slowly inflating building presser so slowly qi was used to it, but now qi felt all the small defences crumble, as qi looked at qis family, no one was ready to face the music, qi would.

“We, as a group, are built upon family.”

Qi began, before stumbling, what did qi want to say?   
What should qi say?   
Should qi be honest, talk about the Nazi?   
Should qi try to be reassuring?   
How?  
Why the fuck did qi even start talking?  
Face the music is a dumb saying, it feels more like walking into quicksand.

“We are happy. You reconnected with your family?”

No. qi wasn’t going to make her feel bad for having a family. It WAS a good thing! Why did qi sound so crestfallen? Back-fucking-track!

“Fuck, I have no idea what to say.”

Qi forced a smile, rubbing the back of qis neck with the hand not clutching the side of the bed.

“I have no better way of putting this… I- I guess…”

Qi sat up, looking at her, dead in the eye. Qis face stony and cold, it wasn’t meant to be like this, qi was supposed to be soft and nice, ease the information.

“I would’ve opted to kill the man that put you in hospital. But we agreed that you wouldn’t want us to be murderers on your behalf, we are a team we-”

“Wait. Hold up. What?”

Annat cut qim off with a confused expression even a fallen expression, as she waved her hands wildly, 

“What do you mean?”

She looked at qi’s stony calm expression, with her own rather concerned eyes, forehead wrinkled, hands open wide.

“What qi means is. Well, we found the guy. And we didn’t kill him.”

Ansyn shot Ancom a dirty expression, but there was a sprinkle of relife glittering at the edges of his expression like he had been lifted from a heavyweight of hidden truths. 

“But he’s in the hospital.”

Anfem finished, dragging the other up, her hands folding around her arms,

“What?”

Annats’s voice was quiet and soft, as she was cradled in the other’s arms, she didn’t seem to register the contact, just letting whatever happen for a few long moments.

“Ancom and the weapons, when you came to pick me up, Ancy had blood… Ancy had BLOOD?! Fuck. But he’s alive… right?”

Her voice was soft and quiet, like the breeze of a new spring day, so delicate it was barely noticed on bare skin, and still, her words tumbled, like a storming ocean, brewing with the hated it holds for all those stupid enough to believe they could brave its waters. Ancom sort of felt like that sailor.

“Yeah.”

Ancy responded, his eyes wide, curling back from the barely breathing Annat, he looked up at Anfem then to Ancy then settled his gaze on Ancom, who was closest to hin. Carefully he edged closer and took hold of qis free hand, squeezing it tightly. The silence carried, it was thick and cold. Like ice. 

Ancom didn’t remember the way the man had looked, Ancom could only see qis friend and the conflict spattered across her expression as she silently remained in Anfem’s arms  
___________________________________________________________

Once they got back, qi had to bounce, it was a blend of the need to check all qis stuff wasn’t stolen and to tell Ms Lori and maybe even Minnie that Annat was ok. She’d be staying with her grandad. Everything was ok. Or qi hoped anyway.

But even though qi had a reason to leave, it felt wrong. Qi watched as qis friends, qis family piled up Annats few belongings that were of any use to her, and also collect there few valuables in the cardboard box they kept behind the brickwork, handing it to her silently.

Qi didn’t know how long qi had watched them, having meant to of left ages ago, but all qi could do was watch, watch as another person qi loved got up and left qim. She hasn’t left you, she won’t just abandon you, she cares about all of you. Qis mind tried to reason, but the picture of her conflicted face was a fresh wound in qis mindes eye.

Qi had to turn tail and run, run away from qis problem like the small petulant child qi was, someone unworthy of respect, unworthy of love. Unworthy. 

The day was cold, the wind that had been so comforting now biting at qis skin, running down streets, the small phone zipped in the backpack, all the once bloodied clothes being shared out, the weapons returned, it was lighter than it had when qi put it on, but now it felt as if it was dragging qim down, everything dragging qim down.

___________________________________________________________

The alleyway was warm, the wind not reaching down its damp corridors, the familiar creak of the rusty pipe a singsong whale to harmonise with qis own soft sigh.

Slowly ancom wandered deeper in, the walls seemed damp and the smell was a lot less overpowering than one may think, it felt safe, and as much like home as qi thought ever possible. Absently Ancom searched the metal grid qi usually hid qis shit under.

But qis shit wasn’t there. Qis shit wasn’t there. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck! Qi stared at the spot for a few moments then stepping back and glancing around the space desperately, but deep down expecting nothing. Nothing.

But there was something. a small paper, it was pinned down with a rock, and qi had assumed it was rubbish but there was writing. In an unreadable scrawl of coiling joined letters a note was written, it was illegible, but below was what seemed to be the same message but not joined up, the letters were much more scraggly but not unreadable.

Dear Ancom,

I came out to see if you were ok but you were not present  
After some investigation, I came to the conclusion you went out.  
I returned but you were still not here.  
I anticipate you are away and hope you find this note.  
I saw some rando digging in your stuff.  
I came out and he said it was his.  
I have your stuff, it’s in the shop.

-Commie

P.S   
sorry if that someone actually had a right to your stuff.  
I just couldn’t be sure.  
Give him my best wishes and an apology.

Ancom had been on qis knees to decipher the note and looked up at the wall slowly after reading the note over a few times. The handwriting was insane, but Ancom supposed it was taught differently in Russia. Either way, it was slightly confusing. Commie had rescued qis shit. Commie. The big buff sorta scary guy who seemed sorta stand-off-ish, Commie, that guy.

But why was he looking out for qim? Did he need something from qim? 

It was offputting but not entirely out of the blue. And Ancom couldn’t find the energy to care, apart from to be relived, he had saved qim a fucking tone of trouble. Qi slowly stood, paper still in hand, backpack still an incalculable weight but now it was almost comforting. 

Qi walked over to the small flower shop and walked inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, Transhumanist and Crypto-anarchism are 2 separate characters, I have no clue if they overlap or whatever just. I have it this way and I'm not gonna change. also, this took way to much effort and I think my mental state is slowly wilting away.


End file.
